Chuck Vs The Pond
by Tynianrex
Summary: What if the last three years of Chuck s life were just the dreams of a tortured mind when the first intersect malfunctions? Chuck gets drawn into a nightmare of spies and lies. Alternate canon, Charah to come.
1. The best of times, the worst of times

Chuck vs The Pond

Chapter 1: The Best of Times, the Worst of Times

The man was floating in his liquid environment, oblivious of the outside world. He had a relaxed expression on his face, as if he were in deep sleep, yet his eyes were wide open. He was alone in his room, surrounded by machines, cameras and screens. A bright, artificial light filled the room.

Addressing the figments of his imagination, he began to speak, his gaze moving from side to side, trying to make eye contact with invisible phantoms that existed only in his mind. His hands moved slightly, making gestures and holding imaginary objects.

Up in the adjacent elevated control room, a small group of people worked silently in the dim light that filtered through the Plexiglas window overlooking the pond room. A wall of large screens covered all angles of the man stirring in his liquid bed. His every word was reproduced in the room by multiple speakers.

"What's he saying?" asked the woman standing in the middle of the room.

I think he's making a toast of some sort," answered one of the technicians. "There hasn't been a flash in the last hour, and the preliminary analysis of his speech suggests that it's not mission-critical. I'm recording it and sending it for further analysis."

"Good. Notify me if anything changes."

* * *

"I want to propose a toast to my family," Chuck announced as he stood and lifted his wine glass. They had been dining for about an hour, appreciating the opportunity to relax and enjoy each other's company. He looked at the people gathered around the table, smiled at them, and began to talk.

"To Ellie, who has always been my rock, and to her Captain, who loves her so much."

Hearing that, Ellie rested her head on her husband's shoulder and smiled sweetly. Devon raised his glass, acknowledging the toast.

"To my almost-brother Morgan, who helped me get over the bad things in my past."

At this, Morgan made a gesture with his hand, embarrassed by the compliment of his hetero life partner. Chuck continued.

"To Casey, who was always there to catch me when I fell, and to his amazing new daughter, who can kick his ass."

There were some chuckles at the table at this.

"To our father, who will be with us in spirit always."

Chuck stopped for a second to clear his throat before shifting his eyes to the blonde beauty sitting beside him.

"And to Sarah, the woman who helped me start my life again. You are the most beautiful and incredible woman in the world. I love you with all my heart."

_Right here, right now, this is the best moment of my life, with my family around me_, he thought. _The funny thing is, it shouldn't be. I just buried my father a few hours ago, yet I'm happier than ever._

Watching his entire extended family gathered around the table, he wondered about the reason for his unexpected bliss. After all, he _was_ Chuck Bartowski, master of self-pity, black belt of mild depression. He had more than enough reasons to crawl into his bed and never come out, but he knew that he had two very good reasons to carry on. His women.

At this point, his eyes went to the tall brunette woman sitting at the head of the table. For as long as Chuck could remember, Ellie has been there for him. She was an odd mixture of parent, friend and sister. For most of his life, she had been the only one he knew he could count on. Now that she finally knew the truth, there was no need for further lies, for further disappointment. He'd always had Ellie to lean on, so she wasn't the cause of his newfound happiness. As much as he loved her, she wasn't the one that made his heart soar.

His eyes then scanned around the table until he found two cool blue orbs gazing lovingly at him and sparkling slightly. He felt his cheeks flush and his heart race. He had known her for almost three years, dated her for a few months, and fake-dated her for an even a longer period, yet he still felt a sense of wonder every time he looked at her. She was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even after years living in the spy world with its ridiculous number of gorgeous women. She was also (secretly) the warmest, kindest human being that he had ever known. Her contradictions fascinated him. She was a woman capable of shooting a man in cold blood (to protect him!), yet he knew that, on the inside, she was still the shy, insecure girl that had been mocked in high school. She was his kick-ass ninja girl, the Bad-Ass Agent Walker of legend, and he couldn't love her more. The miracle was that this incredible woman actually loved him back, and she loved him enough to fight for him, for _them_, time and again.

"How are you holding up?" Sarah asked Chuck, concern in her voice.

"Okay. I mean, I miss him, but I understand what he did. He died for me Sarah, for _us. _I'm going to live the best life that I can to make him proud."

He meant every word of it. He was going to honor his father's sacrifice by living his life with the people he loved. Drowning in sorrow was the last thing his father would've wanted. Still... Why the happiness? Why the contentment? He'd known a few periods of happiness in his life. He remembered Stanford, hanging out with Bryce and dating Jill. He had good memories of those days, even if they were tainted by the betrayal of his best friend and the woman he thought he loved. Those had been times full of promise, but these were times of fulfillment, the beginning of a new life. Just like his new favorite song said, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, and he was feeling good.

In his drug-induced sleep, with his eyes wide open, Chuck stirred in his liquid environment. With the strong, white lights reflecting off his naked body, he smiled.

* * *

Washington, D.C.

"The Pond", home of the Human Intersect Project

March 31, 2008

Major John Casey wasn't a happy man. During his many years as a soldier and then as a spy, he'd seen some disturbing things. Hell, he'd even had to do some things that still gave him nightmares. Yet, in his many years in service, no assignment had been more distasteful than the present one. He'd always been the good soldier, following orders without question, but this assignment just felt wrong.

He opened the door to the control room and entered. It was a poorly lit room full of computers and medical equipment. The constant murmur of the monitoring equipment made it sound more like a hospital room. Half a dozen technicians were working inside. A large Plexiglas window overlooked the main section of the secure basement, known as "the pond". A bright white light filtered in through the window. To the side, an armed agent stood in front of the door that led down to the main floor, home of the human Intersect. On the walls, dozens of LCD monitors covered every angle of the naked form of Charles Bartowski, floating in his pool, muttering to himself and grinning like an idiot.

_God, I hate this assignment._

As Casey threaded his way around the workstations, a few of the technicians stopped their work to look at him, but they quickly went back to their screens. It had been a week since the last time he'd been at the base, yet there were no greetings. These technicians were callous, impersonal professionals, doing their jobs and nothing else. It was the only way to survive an assignment like this.

Casey made his way to the center of the room where a tall, slim woman in her mid-40's dressed in a white lab coat was watching the screens without a flicker of emotion on her face. Casey thought that she might be considered beautiful if not for the cold, hard look in her hazel eyes and the perpetual expression of disgust on her face.

"Evans," he said.

"It's _Doctor _Evans, MajorCasey," she corrected him, a slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

_Six months working together and that's the most emotional I've ever seen her, _he thought.

Whatever," he grunted. "How's the moron? What's your diagnosis, _D__octor?"_

She ignored the sarcasm in his tone. "Brain degeneration is at 17 percent and rising. It appears that my initial diagnosis was correct. I'd give him a couple of years – three, tops – until full meltdown. However, with a mixture of chemicals and an Intersect update, we were able to solve the problem of the pain spikes and the flash malfunction."

"How did you solve the problem of the pain in his dream-reality?"

"We introduced a watch that helps 'cool off' the Intersect and regulates his body into the dream," she answered. Changing topics, she asked, "How was your trip to California? Any news?"

"It turns out that numbnuts here was right yet again. Special Agent Shaw was dirty. Graham put a sanction on him, and he was executed, by his girlfriend no less, also a CIA agent. You want to know who she was?"

"Who?"

"Special Agent Sarah Walker. That's right, the geek's dream girl killed the traitor. Small world, huh?"

"Indeed, Major Casey, Indeed," she commented with an uncharacteristically pensive note in her voice.

They both contemplated the floating form of the Intersect on the monitors. He'd stopped smiling and was muttering something.

"Major? Doctor?" called out one of the technicians.

"Yes, Hannah?" Evans answered.

"We have a flash. It appears that he's found the address of one of Orion's safe houses. It's in Encino, California. He's mumbling the address right now."

* * *

As she walked along the hallway to her apartment, Sarah Walker thought that this had been the most difficult year of her life, and that was saying a lot. First, her partner betrayed her by going rogue and dying. Then she was re-assigned, her status as one of the CIA's top agents was in question thanks to Larkin's actions, and she'd been demoted to a task force assigned to hunt down some bogus organization called the Ring. With all the _good _agents dedicated to the war on Fulcrum, her re-assignment was both a joke and a slap in the face. She'd gone from being one of the elite undercover agents of The Company to being a junior agent in a three-member team tasked with gathering intelligence on a group whose mere existence was in doubt.

However, a few months later, things seemed to improve. The Ring had become an even bigger threat than Fulcrum, which made her one of the most sought-out experts in the whole intelligence community. Her knowledge of this secret and traitorous organization was in high demand. She then began a relationship with her supervisor, Agent-In-Charge Daniel Shaw. Daniel wasn't exactly funny or charming, but he was _there._ He was safe.

His betrayal hurts her, not because she loved him (she wasn't sure if she had any feelings at all for him), but because, once again, she was alone. She hated being alone. When Graham told her of the sanction that they put on Daniel, she took the news wearing the cold mask of a consummate Agent. She decided right at that moment that the assassination of Daniel Shaw was going to be her last mission.

When the mission was completed, Sarah quit the CIA. Graham took her resignation quite well and actually helped her to speed up the whole process. Of course, after hearing her report on the death of Daniel Shaw, he understood that she was on the verge of a total breakdown. No sane person could ever do _that_ to a former lover...

For the first time, ex-CIA agent Sarah Walker opened the door of her apartment as a civilian and prepared herself to initiate a normal life. A boring life.

She was greeted by a cold stare from the eyes of her previous partner and lover.

"Bryce," she murmured.

"Hi, Sarah," he answered softly. "I need your help to correct the biggest mistake of my life."

A/N: What, a matrix crossover? Not really, next chapter you'll know how The Pond actually works and I promise, there are no spikes in the head or Morpheus. I want to make a few quick notes: First of all, I want to thank my great friend Read7585 for his help and encouragement. I´d never be able to get this done without you, buddy. I also want to thank the amazing Jagged1, for her help and comments on this prologue.  
Review, please!  
PS: I don´t own Chuck

A/N 2 So, I decided to re-post the prologue to correct a few errors and typos, and to clarify and expand a few things. I think that it works a lot better now. A huge thanks to Verkisto for all her help with this chapter, and with my writing in general. As Devon would say it, she is one awesome lady.


	2. The devil in the bottle

Chapter 2: The Devil In The Bottle

Sarah´s Apartment

Washington, DC

March 31, 2008

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sarah hissed angrily. "I heard that you were pretending to be dead. Isn´t coming to the apartment of a known associate risking your cover? Why do you think I´ll help you with anything, Bryce? You went rogue and left me to take the heat."

"I've already told you I´m sorry," Bryce said, placatingly. "I just did what I thought was right. The order came through the appropriate channels. I didn´t realize who I was working for until it was too late. By then I´d already ruined both our careers. And Chuck´s life," he added.

"Whose life?"

* * *

_NSA Building_

_Washington, DC_

_September 24, 2007_

_Bryce was running across the roof of the NSA Building. He could hear the agents chasing him getting closer. With his left thumb, he quickly scanned through the contact list on his CIA-issued PDA. With a final jump, he landed on the pavement of the parking lot like a cat. Looking toward the small screen, he got the name he was looking for and sent the file._

_**I´m sorry, buddy,**__ he thought. __**I hope you can forgive me for ruining your life again but you're the only one I can trust. I hope-**_

_His thoughts were interrupted by a shot to his chest. His PDA fell to the ground hard causing it to malfunction while sending the file._

_The last thing Bryce heard before falling into the depths of Morpheus is a gruff voice talking into a cell phone. "I got him. Send an ambulance." Pause. "He's still alive."_

_

* * *

_

Sarah´s Apartment

Washington, DC

March 31, 2008

"So, you stole this computer program and sent it to your friend?" Sarah asked incredulously. "Your civilian friend," she stated matter-of-factly. "What were you thinking? It's no wonder you feel guilty." She began to walk to and fro before him. "Where is he? In a bunker? You condemned someone you called a friend to a lifetime in a bunker?"

"If you only knew, Sarah," Bryce sighed. "I wish he was in a bunker."

"So, he's dead?" Sarah stopped in front of Bryce, arms akimbo. "Then what do you need my help for? I´m sorry for him but if he's dead, there's nothing we can do for him."

"He's not dead, Sarah, but on some level, I wish he were."

* * *

_Echo Park, CA_

_September 24, 2007_

_"'Attack troll with nasty knife,'" Chuck typed carefully._

_He was an intensely curious man. When he got the e-mail from his old friend turned nemesis, Bryce Larkin, he couldn´t resist the impulse to solve the old puzzle. Perhaps it was Bryce's way to rekindle their old friendship; perhaps he was just feeling nostalgic. Anyway he looked at it, the thought that always came back was that his old friend was sending him a birthday present that brought back the good ol' Stanford days. Chuck felt the old pain of betrayal in his chest but years later, it was tempered with affection. Deep down he knew that he still hadn't totally forgiven Bryce but had learned to live with it some time ago. _

_A series of images began flickering on the monitor of his PC. Chuck took a sudden step back and tried to turn away. His brain began to burn, yet he couldn´t move. He was in pain, yet he couldn´t do anything about it. He tried to scream but it was as if he had no mouth. He was painfully aware that something was wrong. Very, very wrong. His eyes wouldn't close; his body wouldn't answer any of his commands; he could feel his conscious mind slipping as if being buried under a pile of new information._

_Finally, his brain relinquished control and the images continued to flash. Then Chuck began to dream…_

_"Chuck! Chuck! Wake up, buddy."_

_Chuck was lying on the carpet in front of his computer, unconscious._

_When Morgan failed in waking Chuck up, he rose from beside his childhood friend and started to call out. His voice has a distinct hysterical ring to it. "Ellie!" he called. "There's something wrong with Chuck. He won't wake up!"_

_Later, as the ambulance made its way to the hospital was the worst moment in Ellie´s life. Something was clearly wrong with her brother. Upon their arrival, things didn´t get any better: the doctors had no idea what was going on wit him; the EEG and the CT scans results didn´t make any sense. As the hours crawled by, his condition remained the same: he was borderline catatonic; didn´t react to any stimuli; was incoherently babbling one moment, then silent for the next hour. To anyone passing by it looked like he was having imaginary conversations with his co-workers and friends. At one point, he began chanting, "Vick Vale," and Ellie didn´t know if she wanted to laugh or cry._

_At that moment, she wasn´t Doctor Bartowski, MD, she was just Ellie, Chuck´s very concerned sister._

_Ellie was just coming back from the cafeteria, when she noticed the tall, muscular man in her brother's room, examining his chart. He was wearing a doctor's scrubs, yet he seemed odd. She was sure she'd never see him before and something about him made her suspicious._

_"Who are you?" she asked eyeing him carefully._

_The man turned quickly around, eyeing Ellie suspiciously. "Doctor John Williams. I'm new at the hospital," he grunted a reply. "I´m just checking your brother´s chart." He tried to smile, yet for some reason the smile only made him seems to make him more threatening._

_**He's the scariest doctor I´ve ever seen,** she thought. **His bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,** she mentally added. "Like the composer?" she asked._

_"I´m sorry?"_

_"You know, John Williams, the composer? The one who wrote the music from **Star Wars** and **Indiana Jones**?" **God, I'm beginning to sound like Chuck,** she thought sadly._

_"I, uh, yes. I get that a lot." Casey paused. "I'll leave you alone with your brother. Excuse me," he said as he made his way to out. As Casey exited the room, he thought, **Damn! His sister's sharp. She could be a problem.** He walked to the end of the hall and entered an empty room while dialling a number._

_"Beckman, secure."_

_"Casey, secure," he began. "General, I found Bartowski. He's at the hospital. I don´t know what happened to him but I need permission to raid his home-"_

_"Denied," Beckman interrupted. "The CIA already got there and they got his computer. It looks like we´ll have to play nice this time, Major."_

_"Damn it," Casey swore. "What should I do with Bartowski? He seems out of it."_

_"He could still be a liability," Beckman stated, coldly. "Take care of it, Major."_

_"Understood, General."_

_Ellie was trying to calm her brother down and nothing seems to work. Most of the time, he was all right. But right now, he was excited and was straining against the restrains. He was talking fast about a bomb and a hotel, was babbling about the NSA and the CIA, about Morocco and Romanian assassins._

_Ellie had called for help several times but nobody answered. Finally, the tall doctor, John, returned with a syringe in a tray. "Thank God, you're here," she sighed in relief. "Chuck's been babbling again," she added with concern as she hovered on the other side of her brother's bed._

_John gave her what he thought a reassuring nod and was getting ready to administer the medication when Chuck's shouted, "He's going to kill him! The General! Stanfield!"_

_Casey halted as he recognized the name. Being a good agent meant having an ear to the ground, and the security details for the General´s visit to LA had become a nightmare for the whole intelligence community._

_"What's wrong?" Ellie suddenly asked._

_Thinking quickly, Casey asked, "When was the last time he was given his meds?"_

_Ellie gasped in surprised. "I didn't even realize," she replied. "I'll go check his med charts." And with that she left._

_Following his instincts, Casey made a quick decision that he would come to regret repeatedly in the following months. He put the syringe down and making sure that Ellie was gone, he took his cellphone and hit the first number in the speed-dial. _

_"Beckman, secure."_

_"Casey, secure. General, we might have a situation," he said looking at the thrashing young man on the bed. "What´s the status on General Stanfield?"_

_Beckman was caught by surprise at the sudden question. She gathered herself and replied, "We just received a report about a bombing at the conference. Preliminary reports estimate the casualties well over one hundred. Why?"_

_"Damn," Casey swore, pausing as he kept staring at man lying on the bed. When they all thought the patient was mumbling incoherently, he was actually relaying secret information for anyone to hear. "I have something to tell you, General, and you're not going to like it one bit."_

_Hours later, after Casey - with an unlooked for help from her boyfriend, Devon - had persuaded and urged Ellie to go home to get some rest, he re-entered Bartwoski's room and had given him a different dose than the one he was supposed to have given. This drug gave the patient a pretext of being dead, whereas in actual truth the patient was in a form of suspended animation._

_Casey went through the motions of calling Bartowski's sister, informing her of her brother's death, and would she like to say her goodbyes. One of Casey's team member looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. "The General said to make it believable. So I'm making it believable."_

_After the burial, making sure that the last of the mourners had left the park, NSA Agent Major John Casey and his team opened the casket containing the "deceased" Charles Irving Bartowski. A medic in the team detached himself from the group and examined the body closely._

_"Well?" Casey asked with an impatient grunt._

_"He's still alive," was the medic's succinct reply._

_Casey gave a grunt and waved a finger in the air in a circular motion. Two men came up and lifted Bartowski's body out of the casket and onto a stretcher. They wheeled him to an unmarked van and left the scene._

_Casey then closed the lid and gestured to another member of his team – dressed in overalls of a cemetary grounds keeper – to start lowering the empty casket into the ground._

_

* * *

_

Sub-basement H ("The Pond")

NSA Headquarters

Washington, DC

March 31, 2008

2214 Hours

"Status report," barked Casey.

"Not much, sir," answered one of the analysts. "Half an hour ago, he mentioned being contacted by Orion. He hasn't said a word since then. We believe he is driving or walking alone."

"This opportunity is too good to just let go," Casey said before adding, "I´m going in. Prepare the script and begin the routine." With those words, he walked toward the door that led down to the pond. He opened the door and stepped inside, he was immediately engulfed by the bright lights.

* * *

Hannah used to hate Casey. Now she felt sorry for him. She remembered the excitement she felt when he informed her that she was to report to him directly in the Human Intersect Project. This was the NSA's top assignment and she'd always aimed for the top.

The NSA had recruited her in her senior year at MIT. After training, she went to the NSA sub-station in Paris to work for the Echelon Project, which oversaw European communications. After a year of hard work, and more than a dozen commendations by her bosses and supervisors, she was selected as a programmer for the Alpha Intersect.

Molecular encoding was still an esoteric science for her, yet the knowledge that she was one of twenty one people in the whole project able to actually program the Intersect - transforming data and computer language into images - made her proud beyond belief. Of course, she'd heard rumors of the encrypted data being transferred into a human brain. It was possible, in theory. In fact, that was the ultimate goal of the project. After all, the computer was designed to function as a human brain. A learning computer capable of independent thought. However, they were still far from actually doing it. Until they optimized the code, the host would need to have a massive brain capacity and his subliminal image recognition would need to be off the charts. She'd taken the test herself hoping to be considered for the project but she'd scored in the low seventies, which was nowhere near high enough to even try with the Alpha Intersect. Trying a download with anything less than ninety percent would be suicidal. The information would arrive incomplete, and the upper brain functions would cease to work. But no one had ever scored that high.

Hannah was really excited when she was transferred from the rebuilding of the Beta Intersect to the Human Intersect project. That excitement had been short lived, however. For the first month of her new job, she cried herself to sleep every night. She lost weight and isolated herself from the world and that was before she even read his file.

He was a good man, a caring friend and brother. What kind of monsters would do something like that to _such a_ _nice guy? _What kind of monsters would help them? What was she doing there? The greater good seemed more like a joke with each passing day.

She came to decision and would follow it through the end. So she faced her situation head-on just like she would face any other technical problem. She did her research and came up with a sort of distraction: a project for a patch to the Intersect. She worked on her free hours to design it and it would take around three weeks of work for a full technical crew but she was confident that it was feasible.

In the meantime, she would think of a way of freeing Bartowski from this hell-hole.

She took her project and her research, and presented it to Major Casey. He shot her down without giving her idea any consideration before realization hit her: they didn´t want Chuck. They wanted the Intersect, and his amazing, yet random, results.

She looked at the Major with fury. How could he sleep at night? But looking into his eyes, she knew the answer. He couldn't. He was a man trapped by duty, no more in control than she was. Without another word, she took her papers and left his office. There was nothing that he could do. Yet, there must be _someone_ who could help her.

* * *

Casey walked into the room. It was large and sterile, empty, except for _him_. In the center, in a small pool of high-density antibacterial fluid, six feet into the ground, was _him_. _He_ was floating with several tubes and cables coming off him attached to his arms and temples. A swarm of high definition cameras covered every angle of his face with state of the art microphones to capture his every whisper. He was lying there, naked. His eyebrows frowned as if in deep thought.

"Okay, what´s the script?" Casey asked.

"As far as we can deduce, he's gone alone to Orion´s safe house. We think it´s in Encino but we don't have the address. You are to call him on his phone and tell him that Walker's got an emergency and you can´t get a hold of his GPS tracker. He'll assume that the safe house is blocking the signal. Tell him that you lost the signal in Encino and you are on your way to pick him up. You have to sell the Walker emergency."

"That´s the best you can do?" Casey asked incredulously. "It´s a wonder he didn´t just wake up one day and kick all of your asses. His world is full of inconsistences, plot-holes, and villains with half-baked plans. What kind of emergency? And what'll happen after the call?"

"Whatever. He'll dream the details. Just get the address, Major."

Casey grunted. Those geeky analysts just got under his skin, in a bad way. "Initiate protocol," he ordered with a dissatisfied grunt.

At that point, they began pumping drugs into the human Intersect to help his limited capabilities interact with his concept of the outside world. The temperature of his liquid environment was lowered by several degrees before a small electrical jolt was discharged into his temples. It was Evans' theory that some mild pain and discomfort helped in bringing the Intersect a bit closer to the real world. After a lot of trial and error and some very disturbing experiments, she had settled for a small amount of electricity.

The _Mexican Hat Dance_ began to play through the speakers. After a few seconds, the Intersect finally spoke. "Hello?" he said in a sleepy voice.

Standing at his side, Casey prepared to speak. For some reason, the interaction worked better with him in the room. If only he could be like Beckman and speak to him through a monitor. But no, he _had_ to be there with that sickening smell coming from the pond, a mixture of copper and bleach, and God, how he hated that smell.

"Moron, it´s Casey," he said. "Walker's in trouble. I´m on my way to pick you up but I´ve lost your signal in Encino. Where are you?"

"Uh, what signal, Casey? You know that I don´t use the watch anymore. What happened to Sarah? Is she okay?"

Cursing the stupid analyst, Casey improvised, "Walker put a GPS tracker in your shoes. She worries about you, moron. Give me the address. There's no time to waste. We´ll talk when I get there."

"Okay, yeah. The address is . . . "

* * *

Hannah´s father was an alcoholic. A kind man but he drank too much. She knew the signs and she had watched the Major long enough to recognize the beginning of a problem: the shaky hands and the gravelly voice, the mood swings and the little red veins showing on his nose and around his eyes. When he left the compound in a hurry, she knew where he was going. He needed a drink and she smelled it on his breath enough times to know that, somewhere in his office, he hid a bottle of scotch.

* * *

Casey rushed into his office.

There were so many things to do, yet he couldn´t stop thinking about _him_.

About _Chuck._

He knew the Intersect has a name, yet he never used it lest it makes it too real. So the Intersect became the moron, numb-nuts, the nerd; the flesh-covered robot; the computer. Any description just so he could avoid calling him by name. If he didn´t acknowledge what he have done to _him_, forgiveness may come easier.

He opened the door where he hid his scotch and he took one long look at the bottle before he put it away. Not now while he still have so much to do. He was a man of duty and honor, and this time, like always, duty came first.

* * *

Hannah used to hate _him_ but now all she feels was sadness. She knew that _he_ was as tormented by _his_ life as she was. She was thinking about _him_ while leaving the NSA Building after her shift and getting in her car. Once inside, she took the special phone that _he_ had given to her and sent a message:

_ O,_

_ They have the address of one of your safe houses. It´s in Encino, CA._

_ H_

She used to hate _him_ too but now she felt pity for _him_. Knowing that your creation had destroyed your son´s life couldn't have been easy.

A/N Wow, it's been a while. I feel terrible for this very late update, specially after the awesome response that I got on the last chapter, but trust me, I got my reasons. A few reviewers were worried about this story being too dark, and I have to agree with them. Team Bartowski is in a very dark place right now, but things will get better. After all I am a HUGE Charah shipper, and this is a Chuck and Sarah story, with a bit of Casey on the side. Just hang in there for a few chapters.

As usual, I have to thank my buddy Read7585 for his help with this story. Read is finishing his own story, Chuck vs The Forgotten Life, you should give it a read if you missed it. I also have to thank Verkisto for all her writing tips and corrections. And last but not least, a HUGE thank you to my awesome new beta foxmac, who is now officially my favorite Australian other than Yvonne Strahovski. If any of you enjoyed this chapter, you should thank her.

And, just to be clear, I don't own Chuck, but I do like reviews!


	3. A Man Who Dreamt About Being A Butterfly

Chapter 3: "A Man Who Dreamed About Being A Butterfly . . . "

Sarah's Apartment

Washington, DC

March 29, 2008

"What's really going on, Bryce?" Sarah pointedly asked and was in no mood to be trifled with.

"What do you mean, Sarah?" Bryce countered. "I've told you everything-"

"I can't see what you get out of this, Bryce," Sarah cut in, sharply. "You came here asking for _my_ help, and then tell me the most absurd story I have ever heard. A computer in a man's brain?" she asked with a huff of incredulity. "Added to the fact that said man is being kept by the government in an induced semi-coma to use him to farm intelligence? What do you take me for?" By this point, her voice had risen with anger. "This isn't _Star Trek_ or the _Matrix_." Her knowledge of science-fiction was limited to a few pop movies and whatever she had picked up during her partnership with Bryce, and the story he had told her was clearly inspired by one of those movies.

"Fine," Bryce replied. "I can understand why you don't trust me and I can't really blame you after everything that happened. Hell, you don't even have to believe everything I just told you but I have to show you something." He extracted a small laptop from a backpack that he carried with him. He typed a few commands and then turned the screen to Sarah.

It showed the picture of a younger Bryce with another man. They were laughing and drinking. Bryce got one arm over his friend´s shoulders.

"This was Chuck," Bryce began with sadness.

Sarah looked at the man with interest. He was handsome, though not as handsome as Bryce, but he definitely was a good looking man. Her eyes stopped at the man's smile.

In a different world, Sarah wouldn't mind hooking up with a guy like him. He looked so young, so innocent, so . . . _normal_. She could almost picture him as they met for the first time: a small hesitant smile on his part; a nervous stammer as introductions were exchanged; a smile that would light up the room; easy and comfortable conversations flowed between them as they sat across from each other; and a soft, gentle kiss that led to . . .

A small smile graced Sarah's lips. "He looks nice," she said, tilting her head slightly.

"He _was _nice," Bryce answered softly.

Bryce's emphasis on the past tense brought Sarah back to the present. She looked at him, silently asking.

"He was the nicest man I have ever known," Bryce continued. "But, like I said . . . " He turned to look at her. " . . . That _was_ Chuck. This is him now." He pressed another button.

A media player opened and a video began to play. It was a distant footage of what appeared to be a medical facility. In the middle of the room, a naked form was floating in a small pool with several technicians wearing white lab coats circulating around it.

"Our mole send us this footage from the facility where they're holding him," Bryce clarified. "Let me show you another angle." He opened another file and Sarah gasped.

It was clearly the same place but the camera was closer to the man in the pool. It was the same man as in the picture but he appeared older, more tired. He was talking, though no sound was heard, and his eyes were out of focus.

"They are keeping him in there," Bryce added. "Using him for intelligence. According to our source, he may only have a few years left unless we do something about it. They are going to use him, then discard him when they've wrung every useful thing from him."

Sarah contemplated the images in silence. Yes, it was disturbing but she was immune to such things. As an agent she understood what they were doing and the reasons why. But she was no longer an agent and had tendered her resignation due to that she could no longer see the greater good. She had been with the CIA her whole adult life, and yet she didn't feel as if she had actually helped anyone. Those distant figures, shapeless shadows, nameless masses that she sacrificed so much to protect, it all seemed so pointless.

But _this_ was something Sarah could see, someone with a name that she could help. She thought of the man on the picture with his kind eyes and trusting smile. _He_ was the lesser good, but the good nonetheless. She never thought that she was going to live to an old age, so why not go out not with a whimper but with a bang. And what better way than in a mission with her old partner. _Not for Bryce,_ she thought with a mental shake of her head. _Not for me but for __**him**_.

Bryce knew that she was thinking and let her be. He had heard rumors about her: that she was finished, broken, a burn-out. But he knew her better than anyone. She was too strong to be broken, too good to be finished. She was just lost, without a purpose. He understood Sarah Walker better than any other man alive – or so he thought – and he knew that there was still a fire burning inside her. She just needed a cause, something – or some_one_ – worthy of her. _And Chuck could be it,_ he mentally added_._

Sarah finally raised her head and looked at Bryce in the eyes. He looked back at her and he could see now that she believes him. Her eyes were shinning with resolution and her lips were tightening. With a smile in her voice, she finally spoke, "So, what's the plan?"

* * *

Casey's Office

Sub-basement H

NSA Headquarters

Washington, DC

April 1, 2008

0335 Hours

Casey was half-asleep, again. He had his fair share of bad days as well as terrible days. And this one was looking more and more like the latter. Interacting with the moron always made him angry. He relived time and again the moment in Bartowski's hospital room.

Ten more seconds and Casey would've used the syringe and ended Bartowski's life.

Ten more seconds and Casey wouldn't be living in this perpetual nightmare of his own making.

* * *

_General Beckman's Office_

_Joint Intelligence Directorate_

_Washington, DC _

_September 28, 2007_

_1600 Hours_

_Casey entered the room dressed in his best black suit. It wasn't everyday that he was summoned by the heads of the NSA and the CIA. As he entered the room, he found out that the General wasn't alone. He recognized the imposing, black man as CIA Director Langston Graham, who was sitting next to a tall, thin woman with long, brown hair._

_"General, Director," Casey said by way of greeting. He didn't acknowledged the presence of the woman. Even if she was with Graham and CIA to boot, he didn't care to like CIA skirts on principle._

_"Major Casey," General Beckman began. "You've arrived just in time."_

_Casey gave a low grunt **(Of course I´m on time. I´m always on time.****You called me for a meeting at 1600, so here I am)**. "Ma'am," he replied._

_"This is Doctor Rachel Evans," Beckman continued, nodding towards the other woman in the room. "She's the CIA psycho-analyst assigned to the Human Intersect Project. Doctor," she added handing over to Evans._

_Evans gave a nod before she began, her voice cold and clinical. "Major, as you know we have confiscated Bartowski's computer, and you were right. The intersect file was there, and according to our technicians, the file was executed at least once. We are assuming that Bartowski was the recipient and is, therefore, considered as the Human Intersect."_

_"So that's what happened to him?" Casey he asked in a growl._

_"Yes and no," Evans replied. "So far, we have made nine attempts to create a Human Intersect. So far, every single one of those attempts ended up with the host´s immediate death. That means that Bartowski is the only known human being to survive an Intersect download."_

_Casey frowned trying to understand. "So the Intersect turned him into into **that**?"_

_Evans gave a cold feral grin. "No," she replied, shaking her head. "The problem was with the file. It was corrupted. Somehow, at the delivery, the file was damaged and the result was a less than perfect integration between host and Intersect. The data somehow overstimulated his brain instead of being absorbed by the subconscious until recalled by a flash trigger as it was designed."_

_"So that´s what happened at the hospital?" Casey asked for clarification. "He recognize the patterns in the data and predicted the assassination of General Stanfield." He frowned again. "Then why was he screaming about it?"_

_Again Evans' smile turned even more feral, and if Casey just squinted a certain way, he can almost picture her rubbing her hands with glee. "My theory is that his brain created a survival mechanism to deal with the information overload," she replied. "Creating a fantasy world of sorts in which he could vent all the data while shutting down from the outside world. In essence, his dreams are actually a mixture of his past experiences and the information he now possesses."_

_"I see," Casey said with a nod. "Not only is he muttering vegetable but he's useless to us."_

_"Not at all," Evens said, her cold feral grin turning to a predatory smile. A cold shiver skittered down Casey's spine as her lips twisted upward, displaying perfect white teeth and emotionless eyes. "Let me tell you about this project I've come up with. I call it the Pond . . . "_

_

* * *

_

Sub-basement H (The Pond)

NSA Headquarters

Washington, DC

April 1, 2008

1900 Hours

Hannah nervously entered the control room, although it was imperative that she didn't show it. In theory, it was supposed to be an easy day. First, physical therapy for Chuck, then followed by a routine update. She liked working at this time as there were fewer people: a couple of technicians, a nurse, and the analyst. Chuck was being constantly monitored and recorded, his every word were analyzed by one of the analysts that was always there around the clock.

Eric Manning was also there. Hannah contained a sigh. He was an attractive man in his mid-thirties with dark read hair and white teeth. He used to be one of the CIA's top physical therapists, who specialized in the treatment of injured agents. That is, until he was fired after several female agents complained that he was far too "hands-on" with the treatment. The NSA, however, was less picky and they recruited him for this assignment. It was Doctor Evans' theory that an improved fitness condition may slow down Chuck's cerebral degeneration, thus, augmenting his lifespan.

Eric smiled at Hannah as he saw her enter the room. A few weeks ago, he had asked her out – _repeatedly,_ she thought – and her reply had been _and will always will be no, _she thought. When his insistence had became a bit violent, she complained to Major Casey, who made it _very_ clear to him that he was not going to tolerate such conduct under his watch.

"Ah, the lovely Hannah arrives," Eric greeted her with one of his best smile. "I was looking forward to your arrival." Although, Major Casey had made it very clear that Hannah was off limits, Eric had the suspicion that if she complains yet again, the Major wasn't just going to fire him. Instead, Eric would more than likely find himself as the Major's own moving target. Feeling humiliated, Eric had found a way to get back at Hannah.

"I was just going to begin the session," Eric said before he turned to address the security guard manning the door leading downstairs. "I'm going in."

Hannah watched Eric and made a decision. "I'm coming too. I need to check the connections for tonight's update."

When Hannah had arrived next to the empty pool, Eric already had a syringe in his hand. "Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty," Eric said in a sing-song voice. "I have a small present for you," he added before stabbing Chuck with the needle on his thigh.

Even sedated, Chuck emitted a low whimper.

Hannah winced at the pitiful sound. She knew that the syringe, containing a CIA developed drug, was a critical part of Chuck's physical treatment. It was developed for the purpose of shortening the recovery time taken by injured agents off the field. It acted as a very powerful muscle regenerator, but it also contained a derivative of steroids. The downside to this that it had to be injected in the patient's thigh, so there was nothing that Hannah could have done about it, and yet Eric took a vindictive pleasure in its administration.

Eric looked at Hannah's face as he administered the drug. He noticed the way the young NSA techie looked at the Intersect a few weeks ago, and when she had rejected him, he started to hurt her in the only sure-fire way he knew how: through the Intersect. To the outside, he was just doing his job and there was nothing that the bitch could complain about. So, he enjoyed making her suffer and feel powerless at the same time.

"Well, Chucky, my dear veggie," Eric said. "Now that the needle part is over, let's begin, shall we?" He knew that he wasn't going to get a reply back from the Intersect and he happily proceeded to apply the electrodes to begin the electrostimulation treatment.

Hannah tried to ignore Eric. She knew he was just trying to get back at her for rejecting him, and they only way she knew that he can was through Chuck. She schooled her features to remain unreadable by busying herself with reviewing the information scrolling down on one of the monitors.

"You have to admit it," Eric said conversationally as he stepped back and watched the Intersect's muscles twitched with every jolt of minute electricity. "He's in better shape now than he was when we started working on him. We should be charging him not just for the stay here at Hotel de NSA, but also for this great fitness spa." He laughed, mirthlessly, trying to elicit a reaction from Hannah.

Hannah gave a preoccupied hum of approval as she continued to ignore him. Eric shrugged and rumbled on, seemingly liking the sound of his voice. An hour later, he finished the routine and left the premises. She sighed in relief and took a moment to compose herself.

_They mustn't know,_ Hannah thought. _You're calm and collected, Hannah. Now's not the time to lose it. _She returned to the control room and almost fainted when she saw that Doctor Evans was there. It wasn't unusual for Evans to supervise the Intersect refresher but she cursed silently for tonight she was hoping there would be less supervision. She _needed_ less supervision.

* * *

_Hannah's Apartment_

_Washington, DC_

_April 1, 2008_

_1553 Hours_

_Hannah was waiting nervously for **them** to arrive. According to Orion's message, this night was going to be the night. After weeks of planning, they were going to extract Chuck during the last shift at around midnight. She already knew her part. Just a few days ago, she had planted the device that gave Orion unlimited access to the Pond systems and servers. For security reasons, the Pond used an independent network without any connection to outside systems. The device, an untraceable satellite modem, allowed Orion to access the network, providing support to the rescue party._

_Tonight, her role will be minimal, yet critical. She knew the plan by heart and she was ready. She started when she heard the soft knocks on the door and ran to open it. She already knew Bryce Larkin. She had meet him a couple of times before. But then she noticed the other person coming into her apartment and realized that she also knew her, or at least, that she had seen her file._

_**What's Bryce doing with her?** she thought as she waved both people into her apartment. "Did anyone see you?" she asked nervously, although she knew that was unnecessary._

_Bryce shook his head. "Everything set?" he asked._

_Hannah nodded._

* * *

Sub-basement H (The Pond)

NSA Headquarters

April 1, 2008

2135 Hours

"Why is this update taking so long, Hannah?" Evans asked politely.

"It's just a big update, Doctor Evans," Hannah replied with a straight face. "I've programmed it using a different algorithm. I found out that this way the Intersect retrieval times is slightly shortened. It'll still leave the Intersect out of action, though, for a few minutes as we've observed every time we upload a new data packet."

Evans pursed her lips as she watched the "refresher" program run its course. "Is there any way around that unnecessary side effect?"

Hannah shook her head. "It seems not, Doctor Evans. We theorize that this is the Intersect's way of assimilating new information." She knew that the program wasn't an update and that she hadn't written it. Instead of using the usual refresher program, she had instead uploaded an innocuous little programming script provided by Orion. When she had studied the data, she was puzzled. To the untrained eye, the script looked like an algorithm that enabled the Intersect refresher program to run at a slightly slower, though more efficient, retrieval rate. But it was much more complex than what her level of expertise can explain. From what she could garner, it should fix Chuck's condition but there was something more there.

_The data architecture was different, _Hannah thought while she monitored Chuck's condition during his refresher_._ When she had executed the command, the Intersect refresher program ran as she had told Doctor Evans it should. The monitors on the Pond room down below flashed as hundreds of images stream across its screen to an awestruck Chuck, and when the update had finally ended, Hannah gave a sigh of relief. _So far so good,_ she thought as she looked down and saw that – just as Orion had predicted – Chuck would still be floating – quiet and unmoving – in his pond and would remain so until she uttered the code phrase.

The hours seemed to stretch on the late shift. At last, Doctor Evans called it a night, and left the complex. Hannah waited for the clock to reach 2330 hours before announcing that she was going to go on a coffee run. She was thankful that no one within that shift refused a cup of free coffee. She waited for the last of the technicians to fall unconscious before she typed a series of commands to disable the cameras and ran a loop. She saw the security monitors flickered then settled before approaching the door and used the unconscious guard's access card to enter the Pond itself.

Hannah walked slowly to the still form of Chuck still floating in his pool. She entered another series of commands and a platform rose up and gently caught Chuck in its grasp. The platform edged slowly towards her and she could hear her heart thumping loudly in her ears. The platform slowed to a stop and she gently unplugged the cables and tubes – with much wincing on her part – that connected his body to various forms of monitoring equipment. For the last time, she took a long look of his face and slowly stroked his brow with her thumb. If things were different, Hannah could see herself with him spending long, lazy days on the bed; leisurely walks along the Seine; sidelong glances as they watched the opera . . .

Hannah shook her head and gave a sigh of longing. _If things were different, maybe . . . just maybe . . . _However, she had a job to do and now wasn't the time to indulge herself on what ifs. She had to get Chuck out of here. She leaned towards his right ear and gently whispered, "Aces, Charles. You're aces."

A/N First of all, I want to thank all the people that reviewed last chapter, or add this story to their alert list. And a very special thank you to those brave souls that added this story to their favorites list, that was a great vote of confidence in a story after just two chapters. I'll do my best not to disappoint.

Of course, I have to thank my buddy Read7585 for his ideas for this chapter, and a big THANK YOU to the amazing foxmac for the great beta and for helping me flesh out Sarah and Hannah

Now, next chapter will be a game changer. Sarah and Casey! Bryce and Sarah! Less Hannah! And of course, Chuck and Sarah's first meeting outside of The Pond. Two words: awkward and sticky.

Disclaimer: [Insert joke here on the fact that I don't own Chuck]


	4. A butterfly who dreamt about being a man

Chapter 4: "A Butterfly Who Dreamed About Being A Man . . . "

"_So, this is it. We're leaving the spy life," Sarah said with certainty._

"_Why do I feel a sense of deja vu?" Chuck teased, a smile gracing his features as he looked at Sarah._

"_Jerk." Sarah lightly punched Chuck on the shoulder._

"_Yes, Sarah. We're leave the spy life and finally begin a real life . . . together." Chuck stared at Sarah as they lay in bed, facing each other. Earlier in the night, they had decided that they were going to surrender all of his father's documents to the CIA. Orion had spend the last twenty years searching for the whereabouts of Mary Elizabeth Bartowski. The only clues that he had found was that there were very strong hints that she didn't want to be found. They knew that resuming his father's obsession could only lead to more pain and, perhaps, serious consequences for the both of them. So they had decided that they were going to move on from the legacy of their parents and start one of their own._

_Chuck pulled Sarah towards him and leaned down to give her a kiss that they both knew was going to be the beginning of something else. He closed his eyes; breathing in her clean, sweet scent; and tried to focus his whole being into the presence of the woman he loved. When his lips lightly brushed against hers, he felt a jolt of electricity skitter pleasantly up and down his spine. His eyes opened and he watched as hers fluttered to a close. He felt her arms wound around his neck and her body moved flush against him._

_Then Sarah stopped, opening her eyes, and with a grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes, she leaned towards his right ear and whispered, "Aces, Charles . . . "_

" . . . You're aces."

In an instant, a sense of lost overwhelmed Chuck. The warm feeling of his lover's body disappeared all of a sudden. The feel of his warm bed underneath him was replaced by something hard and moist. The soft music that filled his room was silenced. His environment grew cold. His eyes felt dry and gritty as if he'd been staring at a computer monitor for a long while. He tried to focus on his surroundings but he found himself unable to do so. Like a newborn babe newly exposed to the world, he felt lost in a strange and hostile environment; a feeling of total vulnerability like the loss of warmth and security that being enclosed within his parents' arms offered. His head exploded with pain, shutting his eyes at the suddenness of it, as his body began to convulse. He felt darkness beckoned enticingly and surrendered to it wholeheartedly.

It was a moment – or was it an eternity? – later, when Chuck tried to open his eyes, blinked rapidly to bring his surroundings into focus, before realizing that he wasn't in his room anymore. The first thing he noticed were the cameras and screens pointing at and/or turned towards him. He was lying in some sort of a gurney in a large, white room. His body felt a bit sticky . . . and he wasn't alone.

"Hannah?"

For a moment, Chuck questioned his sanity. _Or perhaps this is a dream,_ he thought as he continued to stare at Hannah. Which was strange in itself because he dreamed about Sarah when he was with Hannah, _not_ the other way around. He blinked and still _Hannah_ was there and it definitely felt like her. His confusion increased when he noticed that she was dressed in a lab coat and was removing all of the electrodes still attached to arms.

"Hi, Charles- eh, Chuck," Hannah said with a self-conscious half-wince as she noticed his state of undress. "There's no time for explanations. We have to get you out of here right now." She continued to pull the remaining electrodes still attached to him. When she got to his catheter, she hesitated before deflating the balloon and pulling it out, wincing all the time.

Once done, Hannah gently pulled Chuck into a sitting position before helping him up on his feet. When he slowly stood up, he felt weird. It was as if his muscles weren't able to carry his own weight. But after a few tries, he was able to stand up on his own and took a few awkward steps. He felt a bit off-balanced but was able to take a few tentative. It was at this moment that he realized that he was naked. He looked questioningly at Hannah and was about to utter some smart retort about his current state of undress, when the only door in the room opened.

"Sarah?"

* * *

_NSA Building  
_

_April 1, 2008_

_2356 Hours_

"_So you know what to do?" Bryce asked for the last time._

_Sarah sent Bryce a look of annoyance. "Yes, **Bryce**. I know the plan. We get in by the service entrance using the ID your friend provided. From there, we proceed to the basement. The ID should let us in all the way to the secure elevator that leads to the sub-basement. From there, I head to the lab while you go to the security room to secure our exit and control the camera feeds. I take your friend and we escape using the emergency elevator in the security room." She paused as she regarded him. "I don't know, Bryce," she finally said, voicing her uneasiness. " I mean this plan hinges too much on your hacker. Are you sure he is as good as you say he is?"_

_Bryce nodded. "He's one of the best hackers around and won't let us down. He's already got the cameras on a loop and the communications jammed. He's in the system and he can remotely flush the toilets right now if he wanted to."_

_Sarah smiled at Bryce's attempt at lighthearted humor. "Fine, but I still don't understand why you don't go and retrieve your friend while I take care of the security."_

"_Like I told you before," Bryce said with a sigh of regret. "We didn't part on the best of terms. So he might be reluctant to follow me."_

"_And yet he will follow me, a total stranger?" Sarah asked with disbelief, shaking her head._

_Bryce looked somewhat guilty. "Well, yeah," he hedged. "I think he will. I mean, you're . . . " His hands waved in the air trying to articulate a description the fit Sarah Walker without insulting her. He does need her help in order to pull this off not antagonize her._

"_If you know what's good for you," Sarah interjected, her brows arched in pointed look, arms akimbo. "You wouldn't finish that thought and we both know that you're hiding something. Just remember one thing, Bryce, it's **me** who's doing **you** a favor." She looked at the attire spread out before her with apparent distaste. "Are we really going in there dressed up like the cleaning crew? It's so cliché, it hurts."_

_Bryce gave her a devilish grin and winked at Sarah while he took off his shirt. She gave him an eye-roll and started to unbutton hers. When they were done, they left the van and entered the building using the maintenance entrance, where they took a supply trolley full of cleaning products. With the ID provided by Orion, they crossed the building and arrived at the elevator without a hitch. The plan depended on the facility being nearly empty at this time of night since a couple of janitors that looked as if they've stepped out a Paris catwalk were certainly going to attract unwanted attention. They arrived at the secure elevator that will take them down to the sub-basement._

_A couple of security guards stood at the door. Sarah flashed her ID and one of the guard looked at her incredulously._

"_Are you new here?" he asked with suspicion, his hand hovering over his holster. "I'm sure that I'll remember you since there were no memos notifying us of newly authorized personnel."_

_Sarah gave a mental eye-roll. Of course, they were going to meet one of the guards who took his responsibility rather seriously. The look on his face told her that she can't flirt her way out of it._

_She surreptitiously took a can of polisher and with a single movement she sprayed the guard, momentarily blinding him. A kick to the groin and an uppercut later, he lay unconscious._

_Bryce took down the other guard by shooting him with a tranq gun. He tossed the bodies inside an adjacent room, quickly and efficiently, before giving Sarah a nod. They both then took the elevator that led down to Sub-basement H._

_The elevator doors slid open silently and, with weapons drawn, they split up without a word. Sarah swiped her ID to open the closed door in front of her, marveling for the umpteenth time about this mysterious hacker's ability. To the casual observer, it looked like a janitor's ID but Bryce had already stated that it could open any closed door in the complex._

_**Okay, he is g****ood**, Sarah begrudgingly thought. **But surely no one's **_**that**_** good.**_

_Sarah arrived at the door that led down to Sub-Basement H's control room. Using her card to open the door, she entered the room and took a quick look at the unconscious bodies that littered the floor. She gingerly picked her way towards another door that led down to the adjacent pond-like room._

_

* * *

_

Chuck was confused. His head was throbbing with pain and he didn't understand what was going on or why he was in some sort of room, naked with the only person being a woman that he'd dumped a few months ago.

_Not in a good way, _Chuck thought. _Not that you could dump someone in a good way, especially in front of her parents __**and**__ just after we'd slept together. That was probably a personal low, and boy do I know about lows . . . Great. Now I'm babbling in my thoughts._

When the door opened and Sarah came in, gun in hand, Chuck did the only thing that made any sense to him: he rushed to hug her.

In Sarah's career with the CIA, she had accumulated a wide variety of experiences from the mildly unusual to the downright weird. However, being tenderly hugged by a naked, sticky man she just met was easily among the top five strangest experiences she could recall. She just stood there, with a gun in her hand pointing down against her side, while he held her tight, and with unnerving familiarity, stroked her hair.

Chuck finally broke the hug and looked at Sarah. Her confusion grew and even when he was clearly nervous, his eyes radiated a calmness and a confidence that was apparently caused by her mere presence alone. There was trust in his eyes, trust _in _her, as well as an evident relief in finding her there.

For some reason, Chuck's gaze was mesmerizing. For a moment, Sarah forgot about the mission, the strange situation, and even his nakedness. No one has ever looked at her like that. For a few moments, she felt needed . . . and loved. Her whole life she had known nothing but lies and deception Never before had she seen such honesty, such trust in a simple look. Deep inside her, the world as she knew it began to crack. At this point, any attempt of forming a coherent thought was futile. So she just stood there, looking into his eyes.

"Sarah, what's happening?" Chuck asked. "Where are we and why is Hannah here? Wha-?" His voice trailed off as he fainted and she caught before he hit the ground.

Sarah looked over Chuck's shoulder and saw Hannah holding a tranq gun. She fell back to her agent persona and the momentary vulnerable feeling that she had just experienced was relegated to the back of her mind.

"Sorry," Hannah apologized. "But I had to tranq him. Orion said that it would make things much easier until we had a chance to explain everything to him." She took both his legs up and added, "Help me put him back on the gurney."

While they did that, Sarah looked at Hannah with a questioning frown. "Why did he act like he knew me? What's going on here?"

"There's no time to explain right now," Hannah said as she took off her lab coat. "It'll have to wait until we get to the safe-house." She covered Chuck with it, giving him a modicum of decency.

"All right," Sarah agreed. "But I want some ans-"

"S, I'm at the security room," Bryce's voice crackled from Sarah's radio. "The guards have been neutralized and the cameras show no activity in the complex. O said that he has blocked all communications. So everything's coming along smoothly. Do you have the package?"

"Yes, the package is sedated and ready," Sarah replied. "We're on our way out."

"Okay, I'll meet you at- Oh, shit! S, I got a Tango heading in your direction . . . Wait a minute. I know him."

"Can you ID him?"

"Yeah. He's the man who shoot me."

* * *

Casey was tired and cranky. Well, crankier than usual. He have been stuck in his office for hours, dealing with bureaucracy and the fallout of the failed raid on Orion's safe-house. He walked slowly down the hall from his office to the Pond. He should have left hours ago but he didn't. Plus, he really needed a drink and he drank the last of the scotch he had stocked in his office days ago. He knew that his drinking was becoming an issue, yet he didn't seem to care. So far, it hasn't affected his work, but he knew he was nearing a breaking point.

_Damn __this__ assignment,_ Casey thought. _Afghani warlords couldn't break me, yet some lady feelings over __a__ moronic nerd got me on the edge._

Casey knew what the problem was. He was more than willing to sacrifice himself in the name of the greater good, that's for sure. He was also willing to do unpleasant things for his country as he had done in the past. But now he had spent the last six months turning a fellow American - an innocent, someone he had sworn to protect - into a fucking computer, robbing him of his life and dignity. For the umpteenth time, he wished he had given the numb nuts that drug that would have granted him a quick and painless death. But he didn't, and now, he was neck deep in this shit of an assignment.

When Casey entered the control room, his gun appeared in his hand. He might not be at his top form, yet he was still an agent at heart. So when he saw the technicians, analysts, and security lying on the floor unconscious, his training kicked in and he reacted by instinct.

A quick few steps took Casey to the glass overlooking the Pond and swore. The pool was drained and the Human Intersect was missing. He cautiously entered the Pond with gun in hand, when suddenly, his arm exploded in pain.

* * *

"Please don't kill him," Hannah begged after listening to Bryce's transmission on her earpiece.

"I wont," Sarah said. "We're trying to avoid killing anyone but I'm going to have to incapacitate him. Hide Chuck over there so he won't see you through the window." She pointed to a corner of the room.

Sarah looked at her tranq gun for a few moments before putting it back in its holster. Major Casey was probably armed and he'll surely enter the room with his gun drawn. The tranq could take a few seconds to take effect on a trained agent and that was more than enough time for him to make a shot. She needed to disarm him before he can raise the alarm.

When Casey cautiously walked in, Sarah had flattened herself against the right side of the door. She made a fist and threw a punch at his arm while snatching his wrist with her right hand. When his gun clattered to the ground, she followed her attack with a well placed round-house kick into his abdomen.

At this point, any lesser man should be on the floor, gasping for air but not John Casey. Even at his current state, he only let out a grunt when her foot connected. Spinning on his hip, he took a wild swing with his good hand, forcing his opponent to retreat, giving him time to assume a fighting stance. He raised his fists and noted that his right arm was all but useless. He then took a look at his opponent and nearly dropped his guard in surprise.

_What is __**she**__ doing here?_

For a moment Casey wondered if the moron had take her out of his dream. He knew that he wasn't drunk – he felt really bad, which was usually a sign that he was sober – yet he couldn't see neither rhyme nor reason as to why CIA's best was here.

Sarah noticed a certain hesitation on Casey's part but she didn't rush to counter. Judging from his reaction, she knew he was an experienced fighter and a strong man. If he connected a solid blow, she was done for. Without her, Chuck would be stuck in this place, and after the brief albeit intimate moment they'd shared, she wanted answers.

They circled each other in silence. Sarah kept herself out of Casey's range, taking a guess that he was more comfortable punching than kicking and this gave her an idea. She tried a few swift kicks aimed at thighs, yet he didn't budge. Then she concentrated her peripheral vision on his shoulders and feet, looking for tell-tale twitches of an oncoming attack while locking eyes with his.

Casey didn't disappoint when a few moments later, his left shoulder twitched, telegraphing a punch. With a small step forward, he changed his guard, taking him within range and threw a left cross to Sarah's head.

Sarah dodged to the side with a wide sweep of her feet, catching Casey off-guard. She threw a strong kick to the back of his right knee and with a low growl, he drop to the ground. Taking the opportunity, she landed her left knee to his temple . . . hard.

"Oh, my God. Is he alive?" Hannah gasped, concern lacing her voice.

"Yes, but we need to get out of here. Now."

They pushed Chuck's gurney up a ramp, into the control room, and out the door. The moment they left the control room, the door slid close behind them. According to Bryce's briefing, Orion was placing this section of the building under lock-down, and blocking all communications to the outside. That, and the fact that the next shift was scheduled to begin at three in the morning, gave them a pretty good head start.

They pushed the gurney down the deserted hall. Both women were silent, clearly uncomfortable with each other and the whole situation. Sarah looked at Bryce's friend on the gurney. He was restless even after being tranqed.

They finally arrived to the security room where Bryce was waiting for them. Then the three of them silently pushed Chuck's gurney into the emergency elevator. The ride up was tense as Sarah was clearly uncomfortable about the whole situation and wished somehow that the elevator would go faster.

When it finally arrived at the surface, they took the emergency exit and found themselves outside just a few meters from the van. They silently wheeled Chuck's gurney into the van and then took off. The tension was palpable within the vehicle until Sarah couldn't contain herself and demanded, "Okay, people. What the hell is going on here?"

An insistent hand kept shaking Casey's shoulder. He tried to open his eyes but his lids appeared to be glued together. A concerned voice kept speaking, "Major Casey, sir? Please wake up. The Intersect's gone and we can't get the door opened."

Casey finally managed to open his eyes and slowly raised from the ground. He felt anger slowly rise up to the surface. His failure to apprehend the imbecilic nerd and his rescuer fueled his anger. Not to mention that he got his ass kicked by a woman half his size, added to his humiliation. With a menacing grunt, he walked to the door with an anticipatory grin that was slowly gracing his stern features. Things had just suddenly become quite interesting.

A/N: As usual, I have to thank my beta, the incredibly awesome foxmac for her work on this chapter. If I'm able to do a weekly update on this story is thanks to her. I also have to thank my friend Read7585 for his ideas on this chapter, and the fic as a whole.

Next chapter will be Sarah-centric, but there will be a bit of Casey and some Chuck in there too. The bad news is, it won't be up until Wednesday, at least, because next Monday is my birthday and I'm taking the day off, which means that on Tuesday I'll have to work twice as hard. Sorry!


	5. waking up from the american dream

Chapter 5: Waking Up From The American Dream

Author's Notes: A little warning: the first scene of this chapter is a bit violent, certainly not outside the boundaries of the T rating, but still, it's the most violent thing you'll read in this fic. And while it's not necessary to read it to understand the plot of this story, it is an important scene to fully understand Sarah's state of mind as well as add a bit more of a background of this reality. So, if you can stomach it, I strongly encourage you to read it.

_Sarah Walker's Apartment_

_Washington, DC_

_March 19, 2008_

_Sarah Walker was standing at the door of her apartment, keys in hand as she had been for the last twenty minutes. Her mind was racing with the full knowledge of what was expecting her on the other side of the green door: the man that she was tasked to kill, a man who **was** her boyfriend._

_**Daniel Shaw.**_

_**What is it with the men I go out with?** Sarah thought for the umpteenth time. Once again, an error in judgment on her part, over the men she got involved led her to a personal and professional disaster. Moving in with Daniel was an easy decision. After dating for two months, he asked her to move in with him and she accepted. After Bryce, she needed some alone time and being with Daniel was like being alone without being too lonely. Yes, it was complicated, but at that point in her life, she had accepted the fact that her life was one big complication._

_Sarah's thoughts wandered to Bryce and the intense relationship they had shared for two years. According to her compulsory psych review – which was supposed to be strictly confidential but she had somehow managed to procure a copy of said review – their relationship was based on her unresolved paternal issues and his subconscious hero complex. If she was honest with herself, she could see that it was probably true. Both her father and Bryce were charming and handsome men that deceived people for a living, and since she grew up with no other interactions – both social and emotional – save that of between her and her father, Bryce was an easy paternal substitute. Recognizing that need, Bryce subconsciously thought to be the hero and figuratively, saving her._

_**I **_**do**_** have issues**, Sarah thought._

_It was clear why Graham had paired them. Bryce was driven to success, and Sarah had a subconscious need to please him. Even her personality had changed when she was around him becoming more adventurous, more willing to take risks. She did feel the thrill of the mission, but most of all, she reveled in **his** thrill._

_That was why Sarah got involved with Daniel in the first place. If Bryce was excitement and adventure, Daniel was stability and security. They were more like working partners than anything else, which was good enough for her. Just as she had her Bryce, Daniel had his Eve. She knew that she wasn't happy with him, not by a long shot. She knew she was settling for second best instead of looking for love. But of course, even that was too much to ask._

_When Graham showed her evidence that Shaw was actually a mole for the Ring, she had enough and made her decision then and there to leave the CIA. She had no idea what she was going to do with her life, and she didn't care. It just wasn't worth it anymore._

_With a final check of her gun, Sarah gathered her courage and opened the door. The apartment was in darkness, the only light coming in was from the bedroom that she and Daniel had shared. She walked towards it._

"_Hello, Sarah." Shaw was standing next to the bed, a slight smirk on his face. "Interesting day at the office?"_

_**Dammit****! H****e knows****,** Sarah thought._

_Graham had also told her that he still didn't know how deep the Ring had infiltrated the CIA, and more often than not, he found out that the Ring was five moves ahead of them._

_Sarah and Daniel looked at each other like actors who knew their part of the play. She moved first, reaching for her gun and drawing it. But as she aimed it to his chest, a strong kick from him sent the weapon flying. They stood for a moment, their eyes locked._

_They had sparred in the past, and Daniel knew that Sarah was an excellent fighter but he also knew that she depended on her speed too much. He charged at her and she barely got enough time to put up her guard._

_They fell on the bed with Shaw ending on top, her legs wrapped around his waist in a mockery of sex. Sarah grabbed his wrists and they began to struggle. She knew that if he manages to get a hold of her neck, or escape the lock of her legs, she was done for. The man may be a wooden lump with no personality but he was an excellent fighter._

_They struggled for a few minutes. Sarah was beginning to tire as Daniel was a lot heavier and stronger than she was. It would be just a matter of time before she got tired and he would have been able to free himself from her ineffectual grasp to gain the upper hand. Her gaze caught her CIA-issued watch. It had a small retractable blade that was meant to be used as an instrumental gadget to cut through pliable restraints. And Sarah Walker was nothing if not adaptable. Collecting her waning strength and with a flick of her left wrist, the blade slid out with a quiet **snikt** . With a sudden thrust of her left hand, she sliced into Shaw's right wrist, severing the radial artery._  
_The effect was instantaneous. From her position beneath him, Sarah felt the spray of thick, warm blood on her face. Daniel continued to struggle, his gaze locked onto hers, and little by little, the expression of hate faded as the color left his face. The minutes stretched by and when she felt his grip weakened a bit, she released her right hand and grabbed his head by the hair._  
_Feeling off-balance, Daniel let go of her and tried to grab onto something else that would help him orientate himself. His hands flailing wildly, Sarah lunged at his neck and buried the little blade deep into it. He gasped in surprise. His eyes widened as he looked down at her, his expression incredulous before he fell beside her with a dull thud of finality._  
_Sarah laid ther__e, his blood soaking her, panting for breath. After a few minutes, she rolled away from him and left the room. Like an automaton, she removed her clothes, entered the bathroom, and went into the shower. She let the hot water cascade down on her as she sat on the floor with her knees drawn against her as she wound her arms around herself._  
_The day's events came rushing back at her and Sarah began to cry. She cried for herself, her life, her youth, and loss of her innocence. But not once did she shed a tear for Daniel Shaw._

_

* * *

_Washington, DC

April 2, 2008

0445 Hours

"Okay, people," Sarah finally asked, breaking the heavy silence that had surrounded their motley crew once they got inside the van. "What the hell is going on here? And why does he knows me?"

"This is not the time, Sarah, we need to get to the safe-house," Bryce answered as he drove trying to buy them some time and distance away from the NSA. He had learned a long time ago, that if you lied to Sarah on a personal matter, she will be pissed. But if you lied to her about a mission, it would be advisable to be as far away from her – or her knives – as possible. And an angry and irate Sarah was something to avoid at all cost.

"Bryce," Sarah began with an undertone that stated that she was not in the mood to be chastised.

"Sarah–" Bryce interjected with a slight whine to his voice.

"He does know you," a female voice interrupted them, momentarily surprising them both as they had forgotten that Hannah was with them.

Sarah turned from her place in the front seat and glared at Hannah, who was sitting on the floor and looking at Chuck on the gurney.

"He dreamed of you," Hannah added, her hand affectionately sweeping a lock of hair off his face.

Sarah fell silent for a few moments trying to comprehend what Hannah meant by those words. "What do you mean?"

Hannah sighed before reluctantly taking her gaze away from Chuck before looking at Walker. She contemplated and wondered for the umpteenth time why Chuck had chosen Walker. Hannah knew about her reputation and exploits within the CIA. Although not privy to the details, she knew that Walker was a woman who gets the job done and, most importantly, is a woman who isn't be trifled with.

Hannah broke the gaze and looked at the front window of their van. "Chuck's been in a semi-conscious state for the last six months. We refer to this state as the dream-reality. It was caused by a malfunction of the Intersect Program. In there, he created an imaginary world: a combination of his real life and the intelligence data in his head. You have to understand that world, that reality was real to him."

"I know that," Sarah interrupted impatiently. "Bryce told me. But I still don't understand why he knows me."

"You were in the dream."

"How?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows rising in a pointed glare. She suspected this much since the other woman's first words.

"Well . . . " Hannah stated without looking at her, a sad smile in her lips. "I can honestly say that you were the biggest pain in the ass in the whole Pond Project. We had a very limited ability to manipulate his dreams, and we depended on his random flashes to obtain information. So our priority was to manipulate his dream-reality to get him more involved in the spy-world. Figuratively speaking, of course," she hastily added.

"I still don't understand what's that got anything to do with me," Sarah interrupted her, although she knew what the answer was but she wanted confirmation. She _needed_ confirmation, and she knew that Hannah was stalling.

"You were in the dream almost from the beginning," Hannah replied. "Even before we put him in the Pond. You were his first connection to the spy-world both as his handler at first, then as his . . . " She paused, thinking. "Significant other."

* * *

Sub-basement H (The Pond)

NSA Building

Washington, DC

0552 Hours

It was two hours later when they finally opened the door for the control room to find a very angry Major John Casey. With the communications locked down by some damn hacker, it was a miracle that one of the technicians was able to open a line to the NSA overseer of the program, General Diane Beckman.

Casey liked Beckman. She has bigger balls than any other general he knew, figuratively speaking, and she wasn't afraid of making the tough choices that came with her rank and position. Until this assignment, he always felt that, whatever orders she gave, was in the best interest of the country, and he obeyed her without question nor hesitation.

So, for the last two hours, while waiting for the technicians to open the door, Casey got the unpleasant experience of getting shouted, insulted, and threatened by not only his immediate superior officer but one he also highly respected. The message was clear: get the asset back by any means necessary, and he already knew where to begin.

Sarah Walker.

* * *

Sarah Walker was deep in her thoughts, her head resting against the window as she looked out at the passing sights on the outskirts of Washington. She didn't know what to think about the story that Hannah had told her: about the dream, about _him_. It explained the hug, the longing in his eyes, the _love_ she saw there before he was tranquilized. He wasn't touching or looking at Sarah Walker herself but he was looking at a facsimile of her.

Sarah had learned to deal with her feelings a long time ago while on the run with her father. Then the CIA had perfected the survival mechanism of a frightened little girl and turned it into an art form. She had analyzed the feelings that brief moment in the facility had elicited when a strange and naked man had embraced her with a tenderness that she had never felt in her life. Even if his actions had awakened _something_ inside her, she would like nothing more than to deny it or bury it so deep, it wouldn't have the chance to see the light of day.

On some level, Sarah was glad about Hannah's revelation about Chuck's unnerving familiarity with her. It gave her the opportunity to distance herself from _him_. In the next couple of days, they will be living in close quarters and Chuck will probably be mourning the lost of the woman she represented. There were no reason to make the poor guy feel any worse than what he's got to be feeling once he realized that he's no longer living in a fantasy. After all, his whole situation was quite crappy right now.

So it was decided, Sarah needed to distance herself from Chuck to avoid any undue awkwardness and misunderstandings that her mere presence would elicit. It was the right thing to do. So why does it feel so wrong?

"Sarah?" Bryce gently called out..

"Huh?" Sarah replied as she turned to look at Bryce, his voice bringing her back to the present.

"We're here."

With a slight, confused frown, Sarah looked out the window. She hadn't even noticed that the van had stopped. It was unusual for her to lose her situational awareness to such a degree. She mentally berated herself for this lack of foresight and was ready to place the blame on _Chuck_.

With Hannah's help, they pushed the gurney into the safe-house. It was just a small wooden cabin on the outskirts of Maryland. They managed to put Chuck in the main bedroom, when he began to stir.

"He's going to wake up anytime soon," Hannah informed the others. "He has built a certain degree of tolerance to tranquilizer drugs and is fighting it." She looked at Sarah. "Why don't you try to calm him down to make the transition easier?"

"Me?" Sarah asked surprised and horrified at the prospect. She did have some field medical training but comforting a patient was something beyond her training and experience.

"Yes," Hannah replied as if this was the obvious and logical answer. "You. You were in the dream, and he . . . well, you two were _together_ in _there_." Her face blushed as she remembered what those scenarios were. She shook her head as if to clear it before continuing. "He thinks that Bryce is dead and that I . . . well, we, uh, are not on speaking terms in his reality."

Sarah glared at Hannah and judging from _his_ reaction back at the facility, it was clear that what she had said was right. With a huff of annoyance and resignation, she approached the bed slowly and sat next to Chuck. She looked at him, remembering his actions at the facility – _that_ embrace, that _look_. She felt both Hannah's and Bryce's gazes at her back, yet oddly she didn't mind. Slowly, she tenderly cupped _his_ face with one hand and while the other gently – and with a tenderness, she didn't realize that she was capable of – swept a lock of hair that had fallen on _his_ forehead.

"Shh. Everything's all right," Sarah said, her voice sounded neutral, mechanical, almost devoid of any emotion and yet her actions belied her words.

Hannah and Bryce looked at each other, with rueful expressions on their faces. They've got their work cut out for them.

* * *

Casey had never seen such a frantic activity within the NSA Building. Not even when the original Intersect Program was stolen six months ago. People then – as well as now – were coming and going into the General's office, delivering reports and executing orders. The General had assumed operational control over the retrieval of the nation's most important intelligence asset. He marveled at her capacity for multitasking: reading reports, giving orders, and shouting at the same time.

Casey stoically stood at attention. He knew it wasn't his fault, and he suspected that the General was aware of that but she still needed to vent. The General's rant had stopped for a moment and her gaze went over the his shoulder. He turned to see what had caused the momentary respite and he immediately recognized Doctor Evans dressed in her perennial white coat.

"Everyone, out," the General barked. "Not you, Major Casey," she added. "Doctor Evans, please close the door behind you and take a seat."

The diminutive General looked at the two former members of the Human Intersect Project. "First of all," she began. "Things are going to change from now on. The Human Intersect Project is now officially under the NSA's jurisdiction. The CIA has withdraw its participation on it, on presidential orders, due to the involvement of its rogue agents in stealing the Intersect – both the program itself and the asset. So, Doctor Evans, welcome to the NSA."

Evans gave the General a nod of acceptance and welcomed the news in silence.

"As for the retrieval of the Intersect," the General continued. "Major Casey, I'm putting you in charge. So far, we can only confirm that it was an inside job. A communications device was planted in our internal servers, giving the traitors access to our internal network. A guard's report had confirmed that Agent Walker of the CIA is involved with this rogue operation as well as a man who fits the deceased Agent Bryce Larkin."

"I'll shoot him in the head the next time I see him," Casey mumbled.

"No, Major Casey, you won't. We need to know who was behind this operation, although we suspect that this is the work of the Ring. We need Walker and Larkin alive."

"What about Bar- uh, the Intersect?" Casey asked, catching himself and hoping that the General and Evans didn't notice.

"Doctor Evans?" The General looked at the younger woman, not noticing Casey's slip. "Is Bartowski still of any use to us?"

"Absolutely," Evans answered with surety. "We still don't know of any other subject with Bartowski's capability for handling the whole Intersect. We only have limited success so far with partial downloads, and I'm certain that he could be re-Intersected again, duplicating the effects of the glitch."

"How about the Oracle Project that you've been working on?"

"I think it's ready for its full implementation, General. We just need to pick the subjects."

Casey visibly paled, grateful for the fact that both women were ignoring him at the time. He recognized the predatory glee in Evans' tone from their first meeting. _She can't be serious_, he thought. _This is all so wrong. Do you even have a heart, woman?_

Casey can understand why the NSA had used the moron since the whole thing had been an accident. What he couldn't stomach was how Evans and her team of ghoulish scientists went about using the Intersect to further their nefarious research. He knew of Evans' new pet project but the way the woman enthusiastically babbled on about it, he knew that whatever happened to the subjects during the course of her _research_, the results weren't always good.

" . . . So it's settled then," the General was saying as Casey brought himself out of his musings. "Doctor Evans, you're to supervise the dismantling of this facility and the setting up of the new one in Fort Meade. Major Casey, I think that you have an Intersect to retrieve."

* * *

Chuck was sitting on the bed alone in the dark room. With his equilibrium still out of sync, he didn't want to risk standing up. His mind was still trying to assimilate the information that he had just received. For the last forty minutes, Bryce – with some help from Hannah – had explained everything to him: of how the last three years of his life had been nothing more than a dream. Of how all his sacrifices had been in vain since they never really happened. Of how the man he considered a brother was the one keeping him prisoner in his own mind while his sister thought that he was dead. And of how the love of his life didn't even know him.

During the whole time, while Bryce and Hannah were explaining things to Chuck, his eyes were transfixed on the blond woman leaning against the wall, looking at anything but not _at_ him.

The woman before him wasn't his Sarah. She seemed younger but at the same time, she looked tired. If he interpreted her body language as well as he did in the dream world, she was under a great deal of stress and anguish. Somehow she looked sad, sadder than he had ever seen – or dreamed. Oh, she was sad after Prague but then her sadness was mixed with disappointment. Right now, however, she seemed lost.

Chuck was adapting well to the situation or so he thought. He was used to losing everything that mattered to him. At least, he knew that Ellie was safe and that he may reunite with her at some time. He mourned the loss of his friends, including Casey, but he could deal with that. It was the loss of the woman he knew as Sarah that threatened to overcome him. She was there but she wasn't his, and judging by her attitude, she never will be.

Chuck heard the footsteps outside of his door. He could identify those footsteps anywhere and it was easy to do so now. They were lighter than Bryce's and stealthier than Hannah's. Without a second thought, he called out to her. "Sarah?"

The woman stopped and hesitated before opening the door, not even taking a step to enter the room. With hesitation clear on her voice, she replied, "Yes, Charles."

"Well, it's Chuck, actually," Chuck unconsciously corrected her. "I just wanted to thank you for everything."

Sarah stared at him and was well aware of the longing she could see in his eyes. She also knew that he was missing his girlfriend. _Me,_ she thought. _But not really me_.

The situation was complicated enough without both parties exacerbating it further, but if they were going to spend time together, Sarah needed Chuck to fully understand the situation they found themselves in. She had decided that a full frontal assault was the best way to address the problem at hand. She didn't want to manipulate him or give him any false hope. It's the least he deserved after everything that he went through.

"Look, Chuck," Sarah began as she sat hesitatingly on his bed. "I know about the dream, about _us_. But you have to understand, that woman, she wasn't me. Not really. You don't know me, you never did."

"But I do know you, Sarah," Chuck insisted. "Even if it was a dream, I know you. I know I do."

"Chuck, stop right there, please," Sarah said to him in a tone that brooked no argument. "Bryce told me that you are a great guy, and perhaps . . . if thinks were different . . . " She shook her head and with a regretful sigh, insistently added, "But it can't be. You're in love with a woman who looks like me and I'm in a really bad place right now. I can't deal with all that baggage. I don't think that either of us can."

At this point Chuck smiled at Sarah, a dream memory still fresh from their first date floated in front of him. "Perhaps we could be each other's personal baggage handlers?" he quipped.

"What?" Sarah was taken aback by Chuck's unexpected reply. "I don't even know what that means." His nearness was unsettling her and she suddenly stood up from the bed and walked towards the door, putting as much distance – both emotionally and physically – from him as possible. "Look," she said with finality as she turned to address him. "I just wanted to tell you that it can never be." And with that, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Chuck remained on the bed, feeling worse than before. In his dream, he can remember one morning while eating breakfast with Ellie and Devon, how he ranted about how he _had_ to win Sarah back, again and again. At that point in their cover relationship, he was so used to the way that dream Sarah had pushed him away whenever he had voiced out his feelings for her.

_But this is ridiculous,_ Chuck thought. _Even for us._

Was it all a dream? The cover kisses, the angst of their almost-real relationship? And then, the mind-numbing happiness of their _real_ relationship once they overcome all the obstacles.

_No, _Chuck thought, shaking his head. _I __**have**__ to overcome this. _He knew with a certainty that the love he felt for Sarah – both real and imaginary – _is_ real. But she didn't love him back, not in the real world. _She's not the same_.

Still, one thing still bothered him. The whole time he spoke with her, he felt that he was talking to Sarah and not some stranger who looked like her. True, she behaved like Sarah did at first but if he had learned anything in the past three years in that dream world or six months in this one, was the art of courting Sarah Walker. There was enough of his Sarah in this one to feel familiar. He knew that the emotional walls she surrounded her heart to protect herself from getting hurt stood strong at this point.

With a confident smile lighting up his face at the decision he had made and with a renewed energy coursing through his body, he stood up and left the room. _Prepare yourself, Sarah Walker,_ he mentally declared. _To be won over by a Bartowski._

A/N2: I'm so, so sorry for this very late update. Foxmac was a champ, as always, and she send me the first beta last Friday. But this chapter was quite hard to write for several reasons, and it took me a couple of days to re-write a couple of scenes. So, I didn't get the final version until Wednesday. The thing is, when I send the final version to her, I forgot to attach the doc... twice. I know, I'm an idiot. But hey, I finally did it. Sorry for the delay and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. As an apologize, I'll send every reviewer (along with the reply) a sneak peak of the next chapter.

I have to thank Foxmac for a terrific job beta'ing (is that a word?) this chapter, which took a lot of work. And, as usual I have to thank Read7585 for his input in this story. BTW, I'm waiting for the epilogue, buddy.

Last chapter I got two unsigned reviews. Since it's my policy to reply every review, I'll do it here.

Anon123:

1- Yes, they do update him with current events to make the dream more "real".

2- He knows everything he knew on the dream, so, everything he learned on the first three seasons of the show, he remembers. It's confusing, I know. He might have more information on the intersect, but he has to flash to access said data.

Thanks for the review!

Annie: I'm a guy, and as such I'm poor judge of another man's good looks. Since everyone always said that Bryce is more handsome than Chuck, well, I assumed that's the case. But remember, when Sarah saw Chuck for the first time on Chapter 3, she was looking at a picture. So perhaps it was a bad picture, or Bryce used Photoshop to make Chuck look bad. He does that kind of things, you know :-). I'll add a line about the subject next chapter. Everything for my readers.

Thanks for the review, I'm glad you find this fic interesting.

Well, next chapter will be up... I'm not sure when. I do know that it's going to have a lot of Charah and zero flashbacks. See you next week!

_By the way, I don't own Chuck. _


	6. Do Intersects Dream Of Electric Sarah's?

Chapter 6: "Do Intersects Dream Of Electric Sarah's?"

The princess is sad . . . from the princess slips  
such sighs in her words from the strawberry lips.  
Gone from them laughter and the warm light of day.  
Pallid she is sat in her golden chair;  
unsounded the keys of the harpsichord there,  
and a flower, from a vase, has swooned away.

The peacocks in the garden parade their tails.  
The duenna's chatter is incessant and stales.  
The pirouetting jester is tricked out in red,  
yet nothing she cares for and she does not smile  
but follows a dragonfly that flits the while  
as vague in the east as is her dream-lost head.

Does a prince from China or Golconda approach,  
does she think of one stepping from his silver coach,  
bedazzled by her beauty in the sky's soft blues,  
to court her with islands of fragrant roses,  
shower bright diamonds as a sovereign disposes,  
or proud owners of pearls do, out of Ormuz?

Ah, the poor princess, with that mouth of roses,  
thinks of butterfly and swallow, but supposes  
how easily with wings she would soar up under  
the bright ladders brought down from the sunlit day.  
With lillies she would meet the fresh songs of May,  
and be one with the wind in the ocean's thunder.

Listless in the palace spins the spinning wheel;  
in the magical falcon and jester no appeal.  
The swans are as one in the lake's azure swoon.  
From west come the dahlias for the first in court,  
from east the sad jasmines, south roses of thought,  
from north the waterlillies, weeping from noon.

Her blue eyes see nothing but sad misrule:  
into gold she is set and beset by tulle.  
Days are poured out as from a heavy flagon,  
haughtily they watch now over palace floors;  
silent with the halberds are a hundred Moors,  
sleepless the greyhound, and a colossal dragon.

Oh, to find freshness of the butterfly's veil:  
(The princess is sad. The princess is pale.)  
Be silent as ivory, rose-coloured and gold!  
Where will he fly to, the prince she had!  
The princess is pale. The princess is sad,  
more brilliant than the dawn is, a hundred fold.

Be patient, my princess: the horse has wings,  
for you he is coming, the fairy godmother sings.  
With a sword in the belt he has a hawk above,  
and a kiss to ignite you, to vanquish death:  
never has he seen you, but joyous the breath  
from the prince who awakes you: you will be his love.

-_Sonatina _by Rubén Dario.

Orion's Safehouse

April 5, 2008

"I swear it's true," Sarah laughed.

"Are you serious?" Chuck asked her in surprise. "You've never seen _Tron_?"

Sarah silently laugh, glancing around as if finding some sort of plausible explanation. For the last couple of days, she had been trying to avoid Chuck as much as she could, but it was a difficult task. After all, they were locked in a small cabin without much to do, and at the moment, Bryce was checking the perimeter while Hannah was asleep on the room that she shared with Sarah.

That left Chuck and Sarah pretty much alone . . . together . . . with nothing to do but talk to each other. So, what began as a polite, albeit stilted, chit-chat over a cup of coffee gradually became an exploration in Sarah Walker's knowledge of pop culture. She knew that she had to cut the conversation then and there but she found losing herself – not for the first time – in the easy camaraderie that existed between them.

"Okay. So that's a no on _Tron_." Chuck paused for a moment, thinking. Then asked, "Have you ever saw any science fiction movie?" He was trying to engage her in conversation as much as he could.

"I don't know," Sarah replied, hesitantly. "_Star Wars_?" she answered sheepishly, a slight small smile in her lips.

"Well, duh!" Chuck said in mock exasperation. "Everybody has seen _Star Wars._" Feeling bold, he pressed on, "I bet you'd look cute dressed as Princess Leia."

"What is it with you geeks and costumes?" Sarah asked, laughing.

"Nerd, Sarah," Chuck automatically corrected. "I'm a nerd. I was a professional nerd for five years. Anyway, " he added, looking at her straight in the eyes and smiling. "What do say about the costume? Are you willing to try?" There was a slight hint of flirtation to his lighthearted banter.

Without conscious thought, Sarah replied, "In your dreams, Bartowski."

"Sometimes," Chuck answered and the very moment that those words escaped his lips, he mentally kicked himself. He knew that Sarah felt awkward over the whole "I'm in love with you" scenario of his dream-reality flowing into the present and that was probably the worst thing he could probably said at this point.

Chuck saw her eyes loose the spark, and her smile froze as she hid behind her agent mask.

"I should help Bryce check the perimeter," Sarah said, standing up and heading towards the door.

"Sarah, wait!" Chuck called out as he stood up and approached her within a few feet of her. His eyes strayed to her lips and he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her so badly. But he stopped himself as he knew that if he tried to move any closer to her, she would flee. He could already see the fear in her deep blue eyes.

"Sarah," Chuck began. "I know that I'm coming onto you too strong and that we really just met a couple of days ago. But I can feel that there is something going on between us and I'm just asking you to give _us_, a chance. I know you, Sarah Walker, and I don't want to loose you. And if you leave now, I will."

Sarah looked into his eyes. Yes, she could feel it too. She saw the warmth, the love that those eyes conveyed, and she almost surrendered to it. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her, telling her to close the distance between them, take him into her arms, and never let go. But she didn't. She knew that the love in those eyes was meant for another woman, and that if she succumbed now, she will only be abandoned later when Chuck comes to the realization that she wasn't _her_. So, to prevent her from another heartbreak, she did what came naturally to her: to figuratively and emotionally put a distance between herself and the possible source of her heartbreak.

Sarah opened the door and left, leaving a very frustrated Chuck alone in the room. He went back to the table and sat down dejectedly.

"Dammit," Chuck softly swore.

* * *

Bryce saw Sarah leave the cabin and enter the woods as he approached from the other direction. He let her go, convinced that she needed some time to cool off and perhaps do some thinking. He rightly knew and suspected what was upsetting her.

Bryce didn't know exactly what to think of the situation. On one hand, he still harbored feelings for Sarah and was painfully aware that any possibility of a relationship with her was long gone. He also knew that she felt betrayed and abandoned when he went after the Alpha Intersect, both as his partner and his lover, and Sarah wasn't known for her forgiving nature.

Then, there was Chuck. Bryce had a chance to talk with him in the last couple of days, and he had surprised him. He wasn't the same man that Bryce once knew in Stanford. Sure, he was still the goofball who liked to joke and make obscure references about science fiction and comics. But there was a definite aura of self-confidence around him now. The time in the dream-reality had changed him.

Bryce was surprised on how well Chuck was adjusting to the whole situation. He suspected that he was in denial and trying to ignore the more painful consequences of awakening in a different world. Perhaps that was why he was chasing Sarah.

There was definitely something going on between Chuck and Sarah. Although, Bryce didn't know how to classify it. Based on Hannah and Orion's reports, he knew that Chuck had shared a conflicted, yet meaningful relationship with Sarah in the dream-reality. Chuck was clearly trying to rekindle that but he didn't realize that, in doing so, in clinging into the image of the woman in his dreams, he was risking losing the real one.

Sarah was, as usual, more complicated. Bryce suspected that Chuck intrigued her, and there was no denying that she was attracted to him. Bryce caught her glancing at Chuck a few times when she thought that nobody was watching her. However, she was too stubborn to admit that anything was going on between the two of them. Even if she wasn't an agent anymore, her training stood strong.

Bryce sighed and entered the cabin. _Why was everything so complicated?_

He was greeted with the sight of a Chuck, sitting with his head resting on the table.

"Hey buddy, what's up?" Bryce asked as he approached Chuck and taking a seat next to him.

"Nothing, Bryce," Chuck replied with a forlorn sigh. "Just me scaring away the women. You know, the usual."

Bryce frowned. Ever since Chuck awoke, he was different, but now he was apparently returning to his old, self-deprecating persona. So he decided to try and talk to him. "How are you feeling, bud? Any side effects to the dream?"

"Well," Chuck began. "My stomach is still quite delicate but I can eat solid food again now. My balance is back to normal. Physically, I feel great. I have to say that they kept me in great shape." He looked at Bryce, a small twinkle in his eye. "The funny thing is after all the things that I imagined they did to me, I can stop thinking about my teeth."

"Your teeth?" Bryce asked, his smile turning into a grin at Chuck's lighthearted attempt at humor. He had missed this Chuck, his old friend.

"Yes, my teeth," Chuck replied with conviction. "They were quite clean when I woke up and I was there for _months. _Did they brushed them? Did they have someone brushing my teeth daily? What about mouth wash? Did they made me use mouthwash? It's just a bit creepy to think that I was lying in there and some total stranger coming in to brushing my teeth. Another thing . . . "

Bryce let his friend rant, his grin turned into an amused chuckle. It felt great being there with Chuck, just hanging out and listening to him as his speech became faster the more he verbally freaked out. However, he knew that Chuck was just using humor to cover his pain. His smile wasn't as brilliant as Bryce remembered, and his eyes looked a bit anguish under the coat of glee. He concentrated back into his friend's monologue, noticing that he had blushed slightly and looked at the table.

"The, ahem, _soreness_, from the catheter is gone now, but whoever removed wasn't an expert, I'm telling you."

"Well, that would be Hannah," Bryce informed Chuck, smiling at his friend's discomfort.

"Wow. That's . . . awkward."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Bryce looked at him and decided to do something that was long overdue. "Listen, Chuck," he began. "I think that I owe you an apology. We never got the chance to speak about Stanford-"

"It's fine, Bryce," Chuck interjected with a wave of his hand. "I know all about Stanford. I know that you were just trying to protect me. I learned it in the dream. I'm fine with it now." He looked at his friend in the eye and added, "We are fine."

Bryce gave a sigh of relief as if Chuck had taken a huge load off of his shoulders. After years of living with a guilty conscience, Bryce finally got some closure. Given his friend's reaction, he decided to continue. "About Jill-"

"It's fine, Bryce. I know about Jill too."

"Well, buddy," Bryce added. "It only happened three or four times that weekend you were visiting Ellie, and then that other time-"

"_What?_ You _did_ sleep with her!" Chuck exclaimed, standing up and flailing his arms uncontrollably.

Bryce smiled at him sheepishly, a guilty look in his eyes. "Well, yes," he hedged. "You said you knew about it."

"But, Jill," Chuck sputtered. "She told me that you two never- Well, that was a part of the dream . . . " His voice trailed off as he frowned in confusion, trying to differentiate between what was real and what wasn't.

"Listen, Chuck," Bryce gently interjected, bringing Chuck back to the present. "The things on your dreams were based on the Intersect's information, right? Well, I don't think that the CIA got a report in there of all the women that I slept with in college. About Jill, I'm so, so sorry. It just happened. I never meant to hurt you."

"Yeah, I know," Chuck said with a sigh, as he sat back down. "It's okay, Bryce. I mean, while I do think that I owe you a punch in the jaw for the Jill-situation, you did help me get out of a nightmarish government facility. So we're even. Just don't do it again."

"Don't worry, dude," Bryce answered with a laugh. "Jill is in a detention center, and I don't think they allow any conjugal visits in there."

"You know, even if I'm okay with it, you don't have to rub it in my face the fact that you rubbed your face where you shouldn't have." Chuck suddenly lost his lightheartedness and turned serious. "It's just that . . . " he hesitated as he tried to get his thought into some semblance of order. " . . . Things in there were so real. I keep trying to compare things between the dream and here." He stopped and looked at something beyond the door with such sorrow and longing.

Bryce knew what Chuck was talking about, or rather, _who_ he was talking about.

Chuck continued, "Everything, _everyone_ here is exactly the same but there are these small differences, you know."

Bryce detected a bit of anguish in his friend's voice but kept silent.

"And I keep thinking, are those small differences big enough to become big differences? Perhaps they are and they make everything different." Chuck sank back in defeat. "I just want her back," he simply stated. "After all I've been through, after all the things we had to overcome, the idea of finally _being _with her and then losing her just like this . . . " He trailed off, shaking his head at the thought.

"I know, Chuck," Bryce gently said. "I can never imagine what you're going through. Hannah told us about the dream, about you and Sarah. I don't understand why she was in your dream, but you have to realize, she might not be the same woman. The things between you two, well, perhaps nothing is going to happen between you and her." He hated having to crush his friend like this but he had to understand.

Chuck nodded, knowing that what Bryce was saying was true and he had to accept that fact. The two friends sat in silence for a few moments.

"Well, that sucks," Chuck finally said, summarizing the whole situation he'd found himself in.

"That's true," Bryce agreed as he gave Chuck a friendly and reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

They remained seated in silence, each one lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

Hannah was a nice girl. Or at least, she liked to think of herself as a nice girl. However, there was a difference between being nice and being stupid. A nice girl would help an old lady cross the street, and a stupid one helps the man she had a crush on to get the other girl.

_Yep, I'm a certified stupid girl_, Hannah thought. She had watched Chuck and Sarah dance around each other for the last few days. She had even listened to a few of their conversations while pretending to be asleep. After all, there was no TV on the cabin and Chuck had monopolized the only laptop available.

Hannah was aware that there was no possibility of a relationship between her and Chuck. He was too hung up with Sarah to even notice her. Oh, he was nice to her and they talked, but she knew that he felt guilty every time he looked at her and she knew why. The only night that her dream-self and Chuck had sex, she wasn't actually in the Pond facility but the other technicians had made sure that she got the footage of Chuck's _reactions_ during the whole thing. Whereas they found it hilarious, she found it humiliating.

Nobody knew how Hannah ended up in the dream-reality. They knew that Chuck had a limited awareness of his surroundings and that sometimes he incorporated things that he saw into the dream. It surprised everyone when he started mentioning her. Beckman even proposed taking advantage of that by incorporating her as a handler. She adamantly refused.

Hannah knew what was going on in Sarah's head or at least she suspected. And while she understood the other woman, she feel that, before reaching any conclusions, she should know the whole truth. She was a romantic at heart, and she believed that Chuck deserved a second chance with . . . _that blond bimbo_, she thought. She was no fan of Agent Walker.

Hannah waited for Sarah to make one of her perimeter checks and left the cabin hastily before joining her. "Sarah, wait," she called out.

The other woman turned and waited for her, one eyebrow raised in question.

Hannah observed her, a bit resentful of the agent's cold beauty. _Blonds! _she thought, vehemently to herself. _Why does it always have to be blonds!_" In the past, the last few boys she liked had ditched her for a blond.

"What?" Sarah asked, politely.

"Can we talk?" Hannah asked, schooling her features to look innocent.

"Sure."

The two women walked though the woods for a few minutes, feeling a bit uncomfortable with each other. Finally, Hannah began, "I know that we don't know each other that well, and perhaps I'm overstepping some boundaries here, but I needed to talk to you about Chuck."

"What about Chuck?" Sarah asked, genuinely intrigued.

"I just thought that you should know a few things. I accidentally overheard the two of you talking." Hannah then quickly added, "Not that I make a habit of it." She blushed slightly at the lie. "I thought that may be you should know something of the dream."

Sarah looked at her. She was a reserved woman, and a she could hear a voice inside her head encouraging her to just shut Hannah up with a strong quip – or perhaps even with something more violent – and end this very uncomfortable and inane chat. Since her curiosity was piqued, she also wanted to know what the other woman had to say.

Hannah had rehearsed this conversation many times in her mind, so she started stating some facts. "You were never meant to be inside Chuck's dream. That actually happened before Major Casey contacted him. Nobody knows why he put you in his dream." She stopped, and glance at Sarah, to be sure that she got her complete attention before she continued, "It was quickly determined that in order to increase the efficiency of the Intersect, he should become an agent. Or at least get him in a secure location within the dream-reality, where he will no longer be distracted by his civilian life.

"You have to understand that we had a very limited control over his reality. He only responded to the people who were on the dream like Major Casey and Director Graham. We can introduce some situations and persons in there via the Intersect updates but, ultimately, he had control over what happened in there."

"While this is really interesting," Sarah interjected. "I don't see what it has to do with me."

"Oh." Hannah wasn't expecting that interjection and momentarily lost her train of thought. "Well," she continued a moment later having composed herself. "Every single time that we they tried to change his status quo, it was thwarted. By you, or rather the dream-reality you. In Chuck's mind, you stood as his protector. Doctor Evans called you a curious example of an anima in the Sophia stage."

"Nevermind," Hannah replied to Sarah's perplexed expression. "What she meant is that you were integrated into his mind. So we needed to destroy you. Well, not destroy you, but to break you two apart so you won't be there to protect him. In order to do that, they sent you to seduce marks, introduce some of your pasts, um, flames like Bryce or that British MI-5 Agent, Cole. They even tried to replace you with another handler, a CIA Agent by the name of Forrest. But Chuck took her out of the dream after one mission. At the end, no matter what we did, he keeps dreaming of you. They updated your file introducing every negative trait that they can think of and yet it didn't matter to him."

"So he knows everything that it's in my file," Sarah asked, a slight fear tinging her voice.

"No." Hannah shook her head. "Not on a conscious level, at least. He has all the information on the Intersect but he doesn't _know_ it. My point is that dream-Sarah that he created was not only a construct of all your traits and virtues but also of all your defects and flaws. He used all the considerable information the CIA has on you to make, not the perfect woman, but the woman he loved."

They kept walking in silence. After a few moments, Sarah quietly asked, "So they never managed to take me out of the dream?" She was having a hard time accepting what Hannah had told her. For some reason, the idea that Chuck had fought all the people that had tried to manipulate him just to keep them together, made her feel . . . cherished.

"Well, a few months ago we came close," Hannah continued. "They developed a process, using Intersect updates, to manipulate the behavior of the persons in the dream-reality, including to a lesser degree, Chuck. We called this process, the Pod. For a few weeks, they took advantage of some mistake that Chuck made in the dream-reality to manipulate the behavior of your counterpart. They almost got this pod-Sarah to leave his reality. But then, he somehow managed to break the process, and you two got back together stronger than ever."

Hannah looked at Sarah, not expecting any reply. She hoped that she'd managed to clear up some confusion about why Chuck was acting the way he is whenever Sarah was around. And she was also fervently hoping that Sarah would live up to her reputation and put the poor man out of his misery. She can only take so much of this soap opera situation between the two. She could almost sympathize with Casey's aversion towards these two in the dream-reality.

_I've done my part, _she thought. _Now it's up to them to pick up the slack. Anymore of this and I'm going to personally knock both their heads together and damn the consequences._

After a few moments, Hannah returned to the cabin, leaving a very confused Sarah Walker alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Sarah walked aimlessly for about an hour through the woods, her mind lost in her thoughts. She wasn't an introspective person by nature but the events of the last days had given her a lot to think. Right now, she was thinking about the conversation she just had with Hannah. Once again, she found herself torn. On one side, she wanted to use her new found knowledge to let herself go and run back to the cabin to find Chuck and . . . She wasn't even sure what she would do then but she bet that she could put a smile in that gorgeous lips of his. That thought made her smile in silence.

Her smile quickly disappeared and she suddenly felt cold. Sarah put her hands in the pockets of her jacket and kicked a small rock absentmindedly. She just couldn't do it. She couldn't compete with a dream, even if that dream was herself. Yes, she wanted Chuck. _Oh, God, how I want him so bad,_ she thought. It wasn't just that she finds him attractive, although that certainly helped.

_I don't know how I ever thought that Bryce was more attractive,_ Sarah confessed to herself. But Chuck was a whole other category himself. Whenever he smiled at her, he made her feel uncomfortable, although it wasn't a disturbingly bad. She felt a longing whenever he aimed that smile at her. It was as if the distance between them hurts, and the only solution was for her to close that distance fast. More than once, she found herself daydreaming of sitting in his lap and starting a kiss . . .

_**That's**__ not the smart thing to do,_ Sarah vehemently quashed that wayward thought. She knew that their current situation was tenuous at best, and starting something as precarious as a romance was a terrible idea. She couldn't compromise herself like that when they have the government – and possibly the Ring – breathing down their proverbial necks.

Although that wasn't the real reason and Sarah knew it. She was afraid of opening up again and getting hurt like she did with Bryce and Daniel. Daniel's death has affected her more than she was willing to admit. When she stabbed him, she stabbed every single man that had ever betrayed her, starting with her father. When she killed him, she was killing the idea of ever falling in love again.

But Chuck was different. He was vulnerable and trustworthy, unlike any other man Sarah had ever known before. She felt the need to protect him and she couldn't understand the reason why. Deep down, she just wanted him to like her and that was the source of her conflicting emotions. She wanted him to like her, not just as somebody else who acted and looked like her. Even if he had all the information the CIA had on her, he didn't know the _real_ Sarah Walker – the woman that existed behind the multiple covers and fake names.

However, taking the chance of opening herself up again to another man was out of the question. If Sarah did take that step, what would happen when Chuck comes to the realization that she wasn't the woman he loved? What if he didn't like what he found about her?

_No,_ Sarah mentally shook her head. _I couldn't do it let myself be that vulnerable again. I'm better off alone._ Having come to a decision, she turned back towards the cabin and hoped she wouldn't have to see or talk to Chuck. She sighed when she noticed that he was sitting on a wooden chair next to the door. Bracing herself for another round of _that_ conversation that she really didn't want to have, she slowly approached him.

"Hi, Chuck," Sarah softly greeted as she took a seat next to him.

Chuck looked at her in silence. For once, he didn't want to start the conversation as he recognized the look in her eyes. He knew that he was about to get his heart broken and mentally braced himself.

"Look, Chuck," Sarah began. "We already talked about what happened before. I think that you're confusing me with the other me."- _which is confusing, _she thought_-_ "I'm not her and I'll never _be_ her. I'm sorry."

"I know that, Sarah," Chuck conceded. "I really do. But perhaps you can give me a chance to prove to you that-"

Sarah suddenly stood up, feeling the need to put as much distance between herself and Chuck. She began to feel anger towards him at his insistence. She welcomed the anger and held it as a shield against the things that he provoked in her. She looked at him, his eyes moist, all sad, heartbroken and . . . handsome.

Sarah lashed out. "Listen, for the final time, _I . . . am . . . not . . . __**her**__!_" she practically screamed. "You're trying to use me to replace your imaginary girlfriend and that's not going to happen." She walked away, slamming the door behind her and needing to get as far away from him as she possibly can before he started to cry, before he could see her cry.

* * *

Chuck was an organized man, which means that, at this point and after supposedly spending three years being involved in a very complicated relationship, he had a ritual for the times that he thought he didn't have a future with Sarah. The first part of his ritual involves looking at pictures of her on his iPhone while listening to music. This time, however, he didn't have any pictures to look at or even an iPhone. Although, he can get his music back. Using the laptop his father had stashed in the cabin, he downloaded what he considered the basis of his "Sarah playlist". He wasn't comfortable with illegal downloads but he figured that he had a much bigger problem, and being captured over something as stupid as logging-in to iTunes was just dumb.

Chuck sat dejectedly on the floor of his room. Sitting on the floor fits his mood better than using the bed or the sofa as he thought of Sarah – both the dream-Sarah and the real Sarah. He came to an understanding that the time he'd spent with dream-Sarah had been just a dream. A dream that he'd constructed based on the information database that is now permanently taking residence in his brain. He'd also come to the understanding and conclusion that he was going back to being the old Chuck, the one he had became after Stanford. He must have known subconsciously that the only way for a woman like Sarah to actually be with him was if he had literally dreamed it – which in his case, he did.

While Chuck clicked away on the laptop, he tried to contain a sob. He knew that the tears will come but now was not the time. He needed to mourn for the incredible woman he had loved and lost. For a moment, he hated Bryce for taking him out of the facility. He knew that it was a lie but he wanted to return to _that_ world . . . to _her_.

It was dark at two o'clock in the morning and the cabin was silent. Bryce was outside, doing the rounds while Chuck finished setting and arranging his playlist. For some reason, he felt that choosing the right song to start his mourning was critical. But how do you choose the perfect song to represent everything that Sarah meant to him? How to define the roller-coaster that she put his heart through during those imaginary three wonderful years of his life? In many ways, Sarah had changed him, made him a better man. Just the memory of being with her, that magical moment in which she finally was his and he was hers, made him smile.

Chuck finally knew which song to play. With a slow motion of his finger, he slid the cursor to the song and clicked on it. Soft music began to play from the computer speakers, filling the room with the beautiful sound of a deep, female voice.

Sarah was still awake. She knew that she should be sleeping, yet she couldn't. She felt an ache on her chest over the idea that she had hurt him with her words. _It was necessary,_ she told herself for the millionth time. _He has to understand that I'm not __**her**__._

Sarah understood what Hannah had tried to say to her, although she knew that it wouldn't change a thing. Chuck still was in love with a mirage and she knew that if she tried to replace _her_, she would only end up getting hurt again. After Bryce and Daniel, she vowed to never again make herself feel that open or vulnerable. _I'm better off being on my own,_ she thought with a firm resolution.

All of the sudden, Sarah heard soft music coming from Chuck's room. She froze as she recognized that song. She got off the bed and slowly made her way towards Chuck's door, dressed in just a t-shirt and boxers. She peeked through the semi-opened door and saw him sitting in the floor, his face illuminated by the screen of the laptop, his eyes closed. His head was leaning against the wall, his lips silently moving through the lyrics.

_That song . . . How did he-?_ There were some things that Sarah never told to anyone and this song was one of them. As a child, while traveling with his father across the country, the only constant in their life was a box full of her father's cassettes. He loved old time music and she grew up listening to him singing along with Sinatra or Dean Martin. But when he let her choose the music for one of their long road trips in some battered car that her father just bought, she would always choose one of the female jazz singers like Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holiday. She loved the richness of their voices, the feelings that they conveyed through their singing.

Sarah particularly loved Nina Simone. Her father got a copy of her album, _I Put A Spell On You_, on a cassette. She used to listened to it over and over until the day that the tape just broke after being played one too many times. She was twelve and alone at some motel room with her father out, working on one of his scams. She never told anyone how much she cried that day. It wasn't just a tape that she lost, she lost her most treasured companion, the one thing that kept her company while moving from town to town, from city to city.

Sarah particularly loved one song, _Feeling Good, _for it spoke to her of such sheer joy, such happiness as she had never knew nor felt before. No one knew that as she had never told anyone about it. Not the CIA, not Bryce, nor Carina. She was sure that not even her father knew what that song meant to her, and she was absolutely sure that it wasn't on her file.

The enormity of what it meant hit her. _Chuck_ was playing _her_ song, calling her like a siren's song. _It's too much to be just a coincidence, _she thought. _But he couldn't have learned it in his dream, could he?_

Almost at once the wall surrounding her heart fell, perhaps for the last time. Before Sarah knew what she was doing, she found herself walking towards Chuck. He suddenly opened his eyes when he heard the soft tread of someone coming towards him. He looked at her, his face unreadable.

Without saying a word, Sarah sat down on the floor beside Chuck and rested her head against his shoulder. He looked at her in surprise but didn't resist. Instead, he tentatively wrapped an arm around her and when she didn't pull away, he drew her closer to him. They sat together in the darkness, surrounded by the soft music.

A/N I know, it's been a while and I feel horrible about it. But hey, taking a week off once in a while it's necessary, and I think that we are back on track for the weekly updates. As usual, a million thanks to foxmac for her awesome beta and ideas, and to Read7585 for his feedback and support.

I also want to mention that this week Billatwork finished "Chuck vs. The Prodigal Daughter", the final installment of his negotiation arc, probably my favorite saga in all Chuck fanfiction. If you haven't read it, I strongly encourage you to do it. It's an amazing piece of work.

I got a couple of unsigned reviews, and I couldn't send them the reply, so I wanted to thank Seaboji, Anon123 and lulu for their great reviews.

Just like the last chapter, as an apologize and a thank you, I'll send every reviewer a shiny sneak peak of the next chapter.

And speaking about next chapter, I don't want to spoil anything, but next chapter... things are going to happen. So stay tuned!


	7. The Calm After The Storm

Chapter 7: The Calm After The Storm

"No, Sarah. I'll say it once again: boiling some noodles and adding a can of tuna does not constitute cooking a tuna casse- Ouch! Stop hitting me, woman!"

Bryce was sitting at the table, watching in incredulity as his two friends tried to cook something in the cabin's small kitchen. He didn't know exactly what had happened between them but for the last couple of days they seemed inseparable. It was amazing the differences that he could see in the both of them from their previous selves.

Chuck was standing in front of the stove, wearing an old and battered apron. His body was in the way of whatever he was cooking, so Bryce hasn't even got a clue as to what he was up to. He was quite sure that Chuck wasn't even paying attention to whatever he was cooking anyway since he had his eyes glued to the blond woman at his side for the last twenty minutes.

The change in the both of them were startling, to say the least. Chuck stood taller and acted with a lot of more confidence and he smiled more. However, if Chuck's attitude had changed, Sarah was a different woman altogether. Gone was the aura of sadness and cold competence that usually surrounded her as she smiled and laughed more. She was more . . . womanly and carefree.

_Oh, Sarah's definitely a very feminine woman,_ Bryce thought with an appreciative gleam to his eye. _You'd be a corpse not to see that she's a woman._

Bryce had never seen Sarah this relaxed and unguarded. This was a side of her that he'd never met. He knew – deep down – that she was a shy person, and it was rarity for someone as gorgeous as her to be as such. Of course, she could be assertive and confident if the mission required her to do so but that wasn't her true nature. It took a lot of time for her to lower her defenses enough for her to just be herself. And Bryce had to admit bitterly, he had never seen her this open whenever they were together. It was almost as if she was a different person.

Just then they started splashing water at each other and Bryce had to look the other way. They looked so nauseatingly happy together that he just had to turn away before they can even begin a tickle-war or something else that he'd need a brain-bleach to help clear his mind. His eyes began to wander to the other side of the table, where Hannah was absentmindedly surfing the web on Orion's laptop. She looked sad . . . _and bored_, he mentally added.

Bryce realized that Hannah probably felt quite lonely. Deciding that he didn't have anything better to do – and she was, after all, quite beautiful – he stood up, put on his most charming smile, and approached her. She suddenly turned and looked at him with doe-like eyes. That wasn't the reaction that he was expecting, and stopped in mid-stride before she whispered, "We've got a message. And it's from Orion." 

They had gather around the laptop to listen to Hannah read the message out loud. Due to the risk of anyone intercepting the communique, the message was short, cryptic, and to the point.

"'Hey, kids. This is Dad,'" Hannah read to them. "'It's good to hear that you're all fine.

"'Harriet, if you still want to take that European trip that you've always wanted, I've had my travel agent do all the necessary paperwork and all you have to do is pick it up. I hope you have fun as you go gallivanting across Europe. And as for you, Zach, since you're about to start college, I've had someone open up the house. It should be ready to move in when you arrive. Expect Ms. Anden, the real state agent, to arrive soon with the keys. You'll know her.

"'Take care of yourselves.

"'All my love, Dad.'"

"Well, he's paranoid in here too," Chuck commented.

"You don't run from the government for more than ten years without being a little paranoid," Bryce stated.

"What does he means by sending us a real state agent?" Chuck asked, perplexed.

"Well, I think it's quite clear," Bryce answered. "He's sending someone to help us move to another safe house."

"And my father trusts her?" Chuck asked pointedly. "Are we even talking about the same person here?"

"It would seem so." Bryce shrugged before adding, "The only thing that I don't understand is this bit about Harriet. Who do you think he's referring to?"

"It's me," Hannah spoke. "I'm the Harriet that he refers to."

The other three looked at her in surprise and curiosity. Hannah was so quiet that they often forget that she was even there.

"He's telling me that everything is set up for me to go off grid," Hannah added at the others' questioning looks. "And that my papers are at our prearranged drop point at the bus station."

"You're leaving?" Chuck asked, with real concern in his voice. Sure, things between him and Hannah had been awkward but he still owed her so much.

"Yeah. It was part of the deal I made with your father." Hannah smiled and was touched by Chuck's concern. "He's going to help me go off the grid. New identity . . . new job . . . Everything."

Chuck looked at Hannah with sadness. It never crossed his mind to what extent the consequences of her involvement had been and the price paid for helping him, until now.

As if Hannah could read his mind, she reassured him and said, "Chuck, it's okay. I only did what I thought was right. Trust me, you have nothing to feel guilty about." She daintily cleared her throat as she addressed the others. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to get my things in order."

The other three stood in the common room, all thoughts of lunch forgotten. After a few moments, Sarah announced that she was going to make her rounds around the woods. Chuck hastily followed her, leaving behind a very frustrated Bryce.

"Damn," Bryce exclaimed to himself. "Now I'm stuck in a cabin in the middle of the woods with two fledgling lovebirds."

Pondering about his destiny, Bryce entered the kitchen to see if he could finish Chuck and Sarah's previous efforts to make lunch. As he suspected, the lunch was nowhere near finished. He silently cursed whoever equipped this cabin with nothing more than dry and canned foods. He settled for a cup of coffee and some crackers. He finally sat down on the sofa, thinking about whoever Orion had sent as well as contingencies just in case things didn't go as planned.

"So, what's the deal between you and Hannah?" Sarah asked Chuck in an almost playful way. They had been walking through the woods for the last hour and a half, hands in the pockets of their jackets.

Chuck nearly choked in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to feign ignorance.

Sarah raised an eyebrow in question. "I noticed that every time she approaches you, you get really nervous. More than usual, I mean."

"Well," Chuck hedged as he scratched the back of his neck. "We sort of, kind of dated back in the dream."

"Oh, really?" Sarah asked with a smirk. "You cheated on me, Chuck?"

Chuck looked at Sarah in silence. This was the first time that she openly asked him anything about what had happened in Chuck's dream reality. Deciding that honesty was the best policy, he answered, "No, of course not. We were going through a rough patch. Well," he nervously added. "I didn't mean you and me we because I know that you're not the same as the Sarah in my dreams." _Anymore deeper_, he thought. _And you're going to get your ass-_ "I mean her and me we-"

"Chuck." _I'd better put him out of his misery,_ Sarah thought with a mental smile. _But he's so . . . adorable when he babbles._

"Y-yes?" Chuck gulped. _Please don't be mad,_ he mentally added.

"It's okay," Sarah chuckled as she patted his arm reassuringly.

Not for the first time that Chuck had noticed that this Sarah had a skewed sense of humor.

"She likes you, you know," Sarah continued, winding her arm around Chuck's. "Perhaps you should ask her out."

Chuck looked back at Sarah, trying to guess her mood. When he saw the sparkle in her eyes, he decided that it was safe to tease back. "I would like to but I really want to try and take my chances with a certain beautiful, blond ex-CIA agent. I kind of like her you know." He wiggled his brows for added measure.

"Smart boy, Chuck." Sarah grinned at him and they continued in companionable silence. After a few minutes, he noticed that they were walking down a path that was hidden by bushes.

"What is this?" Chuck asked Sarah, pointing at the barely noticeable path.

"It's just one of the escape routes from the cabin," Sarah answered. "Your father certainly knows how to plan in advance."

"Yes, that's kind of his thing. He's a planner." Chuck thought back to the last time he saw his father in that other reality and he somberly said, "I saw him die."

"Who?" Sarah asked, alarmed at Chuck's sudden change of mood.

"My father," Chuck replied after a moment, his gaze distant. "I got into trouble and he came back to help me before he was killed." He took a shaky breath as he brought himself back to the present. "I'm hoping that someday I'd get to see him."

Sarah looked at Chuck with sympathy. She ran her hand up and down his arm in comfort. "Well, he's definite still alive, and you'll be able to see him."

"I know," Chuck said, smiling back at her. He took her hand as they walked back to the cabin.

It was a clear morning the next day. There was a strange atmosphere at the cabin door. For once, it was the first time that all three were all outside at the same time. Hannah had packed her bags and had loaded them in the van. Chuck was looking at her with regret and realized that he never really made an effort to include her into the group. She was an outsider and he felt as if he had made her feel as such. She was leaving without any real sense of camaraderie. He had been so focused on Sarah and his adjustments to the real world that he had been ungrateful to her.

Chuck took a step towards Hannah and said, "Well, I guess this is it. I have to tell you that I'm sorry if I was a little distant the whole time we're here. I'm very grateful for everything you've done for me and I felt as if I didn't show it-"

"Chuck," Hannah gently interrupted him. "Please. You've got a lot on your plate right now and it'll take a while for you to adjust. It's no big deal, really." She reassured him before giving him a short hug. "Goodbye, Chuck, and good luck."

"You too, Hannah," Chuck replied back as he returned her hug.

Hannah pushed herself gently away from him before waving at Bryce and Sarah. They waved back. She then got into the van and drove away without looking back.

They were eating lunch a day later when Bryce heard a car coming down the road. He looked at Sarah and when he saw her nod. He realized that she had heard it too. Without a word, they moved as one. Rushing to the gun cache, he took a couple of shotguns while Sarah dragged Chuck to the main bedroom. Bryce tossed one to her before making his way towards a window. As he looked outside, he whispered out loud, "Sarah, stay with Chuck and at the first sign of trouble, make a run for it." He paused, then added with levity in his voice, "And, for Pete's sake, Chuck, just keep your mouth shut and do as you're told."

Chuck was sputtering indignantly when Sarah covered his mouth and dared him to try and argue. "Though I don't know you that well, Chuck, you do have a tendency to babble when you're nervous." She then removed her hand from his mouth slowly, glaring at him.

Chuck opened his lips to reply and Sarah quickly moved to cover them again, still pointedly glaring at him. He rolled his eyes and nodded. She then move to quietly open a window before positioning themselves just behind the bedroom door. Without turning, she could feel him nervously fidget beside her and whispered, "Try not to worry too much, Chuck. I'm sure that it's just whoever your father sent. But whatever happens, I'll protect you."

"I know," Chuck whispered her. Impulsively, he leaned forward and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. "For luck."

Even in the dimness of the room, Chuck could see Sarah's ears and the back of her neck just below her ponytail reddened with pleasure. If he had to guess, he'd bet that she was grinning.

Meanwhile, Bryce looked through the dirty glass of the window. He saw a generic sedan stopping in front of the cabin and a female figure alighting from it. As she approached, recognition slowly came to Bryce's mind. _Oh, no, _he mentally groaned, shaking his head before he pushed himself from the wall and put his gun away. _The last time we met, things were . . . unpleasant to say the least. We don't need any more drama right now._

"Sarah," Bryce called out as he made his way towards the bedroom door. "It's okay. It's a friendly."

Sarah edged her head forward and asked silently for confirmation. Bryce nodded before turning away and headed towards the main door. He stopped, took a deep breath and released it slowly. _Here goes nothing,_ he thought as he opened the door.

A woman stood outside and peered in cautiously as Bryce pulled the door wider. He watched as Sarah entered the room with Chuck slightly behind her.

Chuck stopped in mid-stride when he recognized the woman before him. "Sis?"

A/N: Well, once again I'm late. As I told many of you on the review reply's, a few weeks ago a co-worker fall sick and I got to cover for him. This last week, it was my turn to fall sick, so once again I fall behind schedule.

I got some news, I'm officially going on vacations December 6, so there won't be a new chapter until, at least, late next week. But afterward, I'm picking up the pace. I'd like to finish this story before new year and start the sequel, Chuck vs The Oracle.

Because yes, your support had been so awesome, that there will be a sequel. I have to say it, your reviews and support really means to world for us writers, and I'm really grateful for all of you.

On other news, I'm participating in the Who are you? Challenge. Go over to the TWOP kicked us boards and learn about the challenge, I think it will be a blast. They got a lot of great authors participating. I hope you all guess which entry in mine! And no, I won't be doing The Bunker of Love Christmas edition: naughty or nice.

Last, but not least, a couple of thanks. As usual, I'd like to thank the marvelous foxmac for her beta and ideas and Read7585 for being the best friend a fanfic writer can have.

Also, I'd like to thank LittleCandyMan for his ideas. The title of this chapter came from some PM's we exchanged. He also gave some ideas that I will use later on.

Mason13, carol and Anon123, thank you very much for your reviews.

And finally, a very special THANK YOU and a HUGE apology to Paladinobr. I'm sorry man, when I was replying I wanted to tell you a few things, so I left you for last and then your review was mixed up with the unsigned ones. So, my most sincere apology to my neighbor to the north :-).

See you soon. I got a lot of new projects, so visit my profile page if you want to know about them!


	8. The Calm Before The Storm

Orion's Safe House

Somewhere in Northern Virginia

Chuck stopped in mid-stride when he recognized the woman before him. "Sis?" he whispered in disbelief, his voice hoarse as he felt a lump form in his throat. "W-what are you-? How did-?"

Ellie tremulously smiled as she took a step forward and hugged her brother tight. "God, I've missed you," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Me too, sis," Chuck whispered, hugging his sister back. "Me too." He tightened his hold on her as if he couldn't let her go.

Sarah stepped back, clamping down on the almost envious feeling tightening her stomach. She knew she shouldn't be feeling this way but it rankled her that any woman – sister or not – couldn't help themselves but fall for the Bartowski charm. _And he doesn't even know he doing it,_ she mentally added.

Sarah had the overwhelming urge to pries the woman off Chuck. Her instinctual protective nature coming to the fore. Instead, she moved to stand beside Bryce and asked, "Who is she?" Her query almost came out like a hiss.

Bryce glanced at his partner and couldn't help but mentally smile at the almost proprietary glare she was shooting at the woman in Chuck's arms. _If she could spit venom,_ he thought. _She wouldn't even think twice about what she was doing so long as Chuck's out of harm's way._

"Eleanor Faye Bartowski," Bryce answered. "Former neurosurgical fellow at USC University Hospital. Chuck's sister," he added after a momentary pause, watching Sarah's reaction and she didn't disappoint.

Bryce saw Sarah's shoulders relax considerably and she had a rather sheepish expression on her face. She quickly looked at him and caught the smug look on his face.

"Jerk," Sarah muttered, though the intended harshness of word was lessened by the tiny uplift at the edges of her lips. She tilted her head towards the siblings curiously but Bryce said, "Later." He softly cleared his throat before stepping forward.

"Hi, Ell-"

_**SLAP!**_

Bryce was nearly thrown back, a hand covering his reddened cheek. "I guess I deserve that," he said as he worked his jaw back and forth. "Nice to see you too, Ellie."

"I can't exactly say I feel the same, Bryce," Ellie bit out, shaking her hand. She wordlessly mouthed the pain she felt before turning to look at her brother and nearly burst out laughing at his shocked expression.

"Uh . . . " Chuck looked from Ellie to Bryce then back again. "I'm guessing . . . ?" he prompted.

"I told her that she buried an empty casket," Bryce finished.

"Empty casket?" Chuck was confused. "Who died?"

Ellie glared at Bryce and to an extent at the blond woman beside him. Wordlessly, she took her brother's hand and pulled him towards the living room. She nudged Chuck to take a seat before seating across from him.

Bryce and Sarah followed not far behind. Shooting a barely hidden look of annoyance at the them, Ellie took her brother's hands in hers and gently asked, "What do you remember after Bryce sent you that e-mail?"

Chuck looked at his sister in surprise and he nervously glanced at Sarah then at Bryce.

Bryce read his friend's silent query. "It's all right, Chuck," he said, reassuringly. "Ellie has . . . clearance."

It was Sarah's turn to glare at Bryce. "Bryce-" she began.

"It's okay, Sarah," Bryce reassured her before he turned to address Ellie. "We'll leave you two alone." He knew the look that Ellie was throwing in their direction and turned to usher a slightly protesting Sarah. "I'll explain outside," he whispered as they both left the room.

Satisfied that they were both alone, Ellie drank in her brother's pale and somewhat thin appearance. Her eyes glanced up and she smiled as she ran her fingers through his normally unruly hair. "At least, they managed to keep your animal shapes."

Chuck automatically swerved away from his sister's oncoming hand. He patted his hair down and replied, "Yeah, well, I like my animal shapes. Thank you very much."

Ellie gave Chuck as relaxed smile, shaking her head from sided to side. "You haven't changed a bit, Chuck." Her eyes then sobered. "I'm really glad to have you back."

Chuck steeled himself on the receiving end of an Ellie-bear hug before she let him go. "So," she prompted. "What do you remember about that night?"

Chuck frowned as he leaned back. "Well, you left after giving me an earful me about being anti-social on my birthday." He smiled at her apologetically before he continued, "I played for a while with Morgan then I was notified of an incoming e-mail." He paused frowning hard. "This is where it sort of gets hazy."

Ellie ran a hand reassuringly up and down his arm. "It's okay, Chuck. Just take your time."

Chuck gave her a relieved smile before he continued, "Anyways, I ushered Morgan through the Morgan Door then opened the e-mail. Bryce had sent me a line from a game we did during our Stanford days." He turned to look at Ellie with a smile of remembrance. "I thought it was a virtual card or something."

"I remember," Ellie said with an answering smile. "_Zoink,_ was it?"

"_Zork,_" Chuck automatically corrected as he reminisced for a while. "Anyways, I entered a corresponding phrase and then all these images started to flash across the screen. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't turn away and the next thing I know Morgan was shouting at me to wake up the next morning. He said that we were going to be late for work." He looked at Ellie for confirmation and seeing her tearful expression added, "I'm guessing that didn't happen."

Ellie shook her head. "No, not exactly," she added. "Morgan _did_ try to wake you but you were unresponsive and in some sort of catatonic state. We took you to the hospital and by the time they put you in a room, you were mumbling incoherently." She then proceeded to tell him about the tests they'd ran, his deteriorating health, and subsequent death.

"It was horrible, Chuck," Ellie said, her eyes bright with remembered grief. "I didn't know who to turn to or what to do if not for Devon."

"Devon?" Chuck asked. "So you and Captain Awesome are still together?"

Ellie smiled as she nodded. "Captain Awesome?" she asked curiously.

Chuck shrugged. "Well, yeah, sis. Mountain climbing, white-water rafting, flossing . . . I mean everything he does is just so awesome, you know."

Ellie laughed out loud at that. _Yes,_ she thought. _Everything Devon did was . . . awesome for lack of a better term._

"So where is he?" Chuck asked curiously.

Ellie glanced at her left hand and hid it from Chuck's view. "He's . . . safe," she vaguely replied.

Chuck looked at his sister curiously and Ellie was relieved that he didn't voice the questions she knew he was dying to ask. She looked at her brother again, from his untamed hair to his lanky frame and still couldn't that he was here with him, not in some grainy image from some secured bunker somewhere in DC.

Chuck squirmed uneasily at his sister's slightly disbelieving – albeit hungry – look. He noticed that she'd stared off in the distance and he gently called her back.

Shaking from her reverie, Ellie gave Chuck an apologetic smile before stating, "So where were we?"

"Um, my funeral?" Chuck prompted.

"Oh, right," Ellie said as she picked her narration. "Anyways, if it weren't for Devon, I don't know what would've happened. He was there when I needed him." She gave Chuck a rueful smile. "I know you'd want to have been there for me but we're going off topic.

"Okay," Ellie said after a gathering her wayward thoughts together. "It was about three months after your funeral. I had just finished my shift and I was on my way to visit your grave when I saw Bryce waiting for me along with Dad."

"Uh, Ellie," Chuck gently interjected. "About Dad-"

"It's okay, Chuck," Ellie reassured him. "I know that our dad's a spy."

"How did you find out?" Chuck asked, surprised.

"Well, as I said," Ellie began. "I was visiting your grave when I saw . . . "

_December 2007_

"_Dad?" Ellie asked in disbelief before looking at the other man beside her father. Once recognizing who it was, she stormed up to him._

"_Hi, Ell-" Bryce began._

_**SLAP!**_

"_Ellie, no!" Stephen J. Bartowski grabbed his daughter's hand and tugged her away from Bryce._

"_But he got Chuck kicked out of Stanford-" Ellie began, her voice rising, struggling to get out of her father's strong but gentle grip._

"_On my orders," Stephen interjected._

"_What?" Ellie stopped struggling, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "What the hell is going on, Dad?"_

"_Look, this isn't the place for explanations," Stephen said placatingly, recognizing the beginnings of a temper that he knew his daughter had inherited from his wife. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"_

_Ellie, still fuming, gave a curt nod before adding, "If you don't mind, I'll just say hello to Chuck-"_

"_The casket's empty," Bryce said, working his jaw from side to side._

"_What?"_

"_Just give it a rest, Bryce," Stephen sighed as he quickly grabbed his daughter's arm and tugged her away from him. "Ellie, come on. I'll take you home and I'll explain everything . . . "_

* * *

". . . So, when Dad found out that his identity was compromised, he contacted me and Devon and we went off the grid," Elie continued. "We worked together on the patch for the Intersect while Bryce tried to use his new found contacts to find your location. We knew that the government was getting intel from the Intersect, from you, but we didn't have enough details to try for an extraction. Eventually, Hannah contacted Dad and Bryce was able to leave his cover-"

"Which cover?" Chuck interrupted his sister, his brows furrowed. He had always assumed that Bryce had been working for the CIA.

"Didn't he tell you?" Ellie asked, surprised. "Bryce joined Fulcrum. As far as the CIA and the government knows, he's dead."

* * *

_NSA Building_

_April 2, 2008_

_1934 Hours_

_"Okay, people, what have we got?" Casey asked the agents and analysts gathered in the room. With the full resources of the NSA backing him up, he got the best of the best working for him._

_"Well, Major," the lead analyst began. "We don't have that much."_

_Casey grunted in response (Tell me something I don't know, moron.)_

_"Whoever their hacker . . . " the analyst continued. " . . . was good. Really good," he added with a hint of admiration. "We were unable to retrieve any footage from the facility. Likewise, on all of the traffic cameras within a twenty mile radius went off-line at the same time. That's a dead end, too."_

_"What about the infiltrators?" Casey grunted._

_"We had been able to identify them," the analyst replied. "Sarah Walker . . . " At this point he pressed a button and a monitor came to life. Walker's file picture appeared on the screen._

_"A former CIA agent who retired on medical grounds based on a psychiatric recommendation," the analyst continued. "And the other one was Bryce Larkin." He pressed the button on his console and Bryce's file photo appeared on the screen._

_"According to the file we have, he's dead. Well," the analyst amended himself. "You actually killed him, sir. He was Walker's former partner and, according to the files, they were lovers."_

_"Fine," Casey grunted. "But this was an inside job. What do we know about the techie, Hannah?"_

_"No red flags on her profile, sir," another analyst answered. "She's single with no known political affiliations or skeletons in the closet as far as we can tell. Also, her bank accounts doesn't register any unusual movements. So we don't know about her motives."_

_"Living relatives?"_

_"Her father is a retired police officer and her mother runs a flower shop in Virginia."_

_Casey took a few moments to read the information before him. He can tell – and feel – that all the eyes on the room were on him, yet he didn't care. He took his time to take a look at the files of all the suspects. With a final grunt, he addressed the people before him._

_"Okay, let's cover the basics," Casey began. "Put an APB for all domestic and foreign agencies on Walker and Larkin. I want all their bank accounts and credit cards on a close watch. Also, get a list of all their known aliases and see if we can get a hit. Put all of their known associates under surveillance. The same thing happens with the techie. Remember, people, this is top priority. So use whatever resources you need to get this done."_

_Casey thought for a few moments before adding, "Also, I want Echelon in on this. Call the FBI and get Carnivore to work for us. If they as much as sneeze on any network, I want to know about it. Get their faces on the system and make sure that Homeland Security puts them on their priority list. And get extra security on every airport on a five hundred mile radius. We run this by the numbers but if any of you got any other ideas, run them by me first and we'll take it from there."_

_Recognizing that they'd been dismissed, most of the people in the room stood up to carry out their orders. Casey gestured to one of the agents to follow him and left the room. The agent joined him on the hallway and looked at Casey expectantly in silence._

_Casey stood there looking at the young and eager face of the agent in front of him. He knew what he had to do but he was hesitant to give the command in what he knew was a further descent into darkness. With a final sigh, he spoke, "Listen, Jones, I have an assignment for you. I need you to go to Virginia and bring Hannah's parents here . . . "_

* * *

"So, what do you think will happen next?" Sarah asked Bryce.

The two former partners were just outside the cabin, waiting in the cold to give the Bartowski siblings some privacy. Sarah was anxious to get inside, partly due to the fact that she didn't feel comfortable leaving Chuck alone with someone new even if it was his sister. She knew that he was physically safe but she believed that he was still in a fragile state of mind. She wanted to be there to lend him some support and she knew that he would want her there with him. But, on another level, she was intrigued with this Eleanor. She was a new source of information about Chuck and she wanted to learn everything there was to know about him.

"I don't know," Bryce replied, interrupting her thoughts. "Moving right now could be complicated. The NSA is still looking for us. But if Orion says that we should move, it's because he has a plan. He's probably setting the new safe-house right now."

"And what about you? What are your plans for the future?" Sarah asked, curious.

"Well," Bryce said in a contemplative tone. "I don't know. I never thought that far ahead. I can't get back to Fulcrum, and of course the CIA is out of the question. I'm legally dead, so I don't really have anything to go back to. I guess I'll ask Orion for a new identity and go off the grid."

They sat in silence on a bench adjacent to the cabin's entryway. After a few minutes, Bryce suggested, "You could come with me. We could get out together to a new place and start a new life."

Sarah answered back, her gaze lost in the distance, "And how would that work, Bryce?" The question was purely rhetorical. She didn't know what the future held for her. If it were up to her, however, it would involve a certain tall, curly-haired individual.

"I want to be with you, Sarah," Bryce simply stated. He was deeply aware that something was going on between her and Chuck. But he still had feelings for her, and in his eyes, this was his last chance.

Sarah turned to face him. "Bryce, I already told you when we met after you went rogue that we were through. I care about you as a friend and I will always have your back. You are my partner but I don't love you. I think that I never did. I'm sorry. And now . . . " She hesitated, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he already feels but she felt that he needs to understand where she stands.

"You and Chuck are . . . whatever you are now," Bryce stated, surprised at the lack of feeling that Sarah's declaration had elicited. "Okay, I understand." He gently smiled at her. "But I have to say, I never saw that coming. Chuck is a good man." He stood up. "I'm going to check some things back at the cabin."

Sarah watched him as he walked away. She felt remorse, not because of what she said – which she thought was necessary – but because of how she said it. But Bryce needed to know that whatever romantic notions he had for her wasn't reciprocated. She stood up and walked away from the cabin, hugging herself for warmth. She didn't get far when she heard a voice call out her name.

"Sarah!" Chuck called as he jogged to catch up with her. It was clear that he was really excited about something.

Sarah looked at Chuck barely containing a grin. With his long, slim legs moving at a half-jog, his curls happily bouncing and huge smile on his face, he looked like a really tall child on Christmas morning.

"Sarah, look!" Chuck said, his eyes sparkling, pointing at his feet.

Sarah looked down to see what had Chuck so excited. She didn't notice anything and looked back at him, one eyebrow arched in question.

Chuck rolled his eyes with a sigh of exasperation. "My Chucks, Sarah!" he stated as if pointing out the obvious. "Ellie brought me a pair of Chucks!"

Sarah he looked at him in wonder and confusion. "What was wrong with your previous shoes?"

"Well, there was nothing wrong with them but Bryce only packed me two pair of shoes and they were both tennis shoes. And I've always been a dedicated Converse fan."

"I see," Sarah said in mock seriousness. It was hard not to get excited when Chuck behaved like this.

"Are you mocking me, Miss Walker?" Chuck asked, taking a step that drew them closer. He placed his hands on her hips.

Sarah shifted her weight, uncomfortable under the intimate touch. She liked Chuck a lot but after Daniel, she decided to take things slow. Plus, she knew that Chuck was still in an emotionally bad shape. Deep down, she was afraid that if she opened her heart and gave herself to him, only to find out that he wasn't really into her. While many of her initial fears were appalled by their growing relationship, she still wanted to take things calmly and slowly. Not just for her – she was starting to realize that she was quickly falling for him – but for him.

They locked gazes and the smile in Chuck's face slowly disappeared to be replaced with affection and raw attraction. He nervously lick his lips and Sarah's gaze was directed to them, imitating him unconsciously.

Chuck bent his upper body, tentatively approaching Sarah's face. She stood motionless until she could feel the warmth of his face near hers. And just when their lips were about to touch, she turned her face away and his lips ended brushing her cheekbones.

Chuck took a sudden step back as if scalded and looked at her in confusion. For once he was at a loss for words. He turned around and began walking back to the cabin.

"Chuck, wait," Sarah called back gripping his arm firmly and spinning him around.

"No, it's okay, Sarah," Chuck said in an understanding tone, although he didn't feel or want to understand. "I think I just misinterpreted this whole thing between us. I'll leave you alone."

"No, Chuck. Let's talk about this."

Chuck's jaw figuratively hit the floor. _Did she just say . . . ?_ "You want to talk about this?"

Sarah stared at Chuck's incredulous look. "Well, yes," she said as if stating the most logical thing. "I really think we should talk." She took his hand and led him to a fallen tree, where they sat down. She straddle the trunk so she could face him.

"Chuck," Sarah began. "I like you . . . a lot. But I'm in a really bad place right now and I think that you are too. So we have to take things slowly. I . . . I . . . Well, I just got out of a relationship, so to speak."

"With Bryce?" Chuck asked before he could stop himself.

"What?" Sarah asked, taken aback by the question. "No, Bryce and I broke up nearly a year ago. But a few months after he went rogue, I was assigned to a task force and began a relationship with my supervisor."

"What was his name?" Chuck gently prodded. The story sounded somehow familiar and he dreaded what her answer will be. He suspected that many things of the real world were slightly different and twisted version of what happened on the dream reality or perhaps it was the other way around.

"Daniel Shaw," Sarah simply replied.

Chuck uttered a humorless laugh.

"What?" Sarah asked, curious. "You know him?"

"You could say that," Chuck ironically replied. "He was in the dream-reality. First, as a mentor and then as, well, kind of a villain." He looked at Sarah's questioning gaze. "And, well, you two were together there for a brief time."

"Oh," Sarah said as she looked down at her hands. She was curious about what had transpired in Chuck's dream-reality. However, she dreaded what the answer will be. She didn't want him to know what happened between her and Daniel.

"Hey, it's fine," Chuck said taking her chin gently in his hand and slowly raising her face to meet his. "Sarah, that is in the past, and in my case, it never really happened. So no regrets, please?" He gave her an encouraging smile. "But if you want to talk, I'm here."

Sarah slowly matched Chuck's smile. "No, it's okay. Like you said, it's in the past." She shook her head as if to wave away the sad thoughts that had risen to her mind unbidden. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Chuck nodded to let Sarah continue.

Sarah took his hands in between hers. "Like I said, I like you. I want to see where this thing takes us. But before moving on, I need to be sure that it's me you want, and not her, the Sarah of your imagination. I need to know that I won't be constantly compared to her, to another version of myself. I . . . I can't open up to you until I know that you won't discard me if I fail to her standards. That you will be loving me as I am," she finished with a quiet voice, struggling to keep her face up.

Chuck felt a slight annoyance at Sarah's statement and the apparent step back in their relationship that it represented. How can he prove to her that he wasn't trying to use her as a replacement? He nearly screamed in frustration but then he saw the look in her eyes. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. He saw her exposed vulnerability and her fear.

Chuck knew that this wasn't the Sarah of the dream-reality. This was an altogether different person, just as extraordinary as her, with all the qualities that he loved on his Sarah and all her complications. He also knew that due to her upbringing, she somehow failed to see the incredible woman that she is. And to further complicate the situation, she believed that he was comparing her to an idealized version of herself.

Chuck looked into Sarah's blue eyes with uncertainty . Just saying that he wanted her as herself wouldn't do it – and it was confusing even to him. He knew that trying to convince her that the dream-reality Sarah wasn't a perfect fantasy was impossible. So he did the only thing that would make sense.

Chuck raised his hand and cupped Sarah's cheek. Then, slowly, to let her retreat if she wanted, he gently kissed her forehead before gracing her with a smile. "It's okay, Sarah. We'll take as much time as you want."

Sarah looked back at Chuck in wonder, her smile spread to a full blown grin. He matched it with a grin of his own.

"Come on," Chuck said, taking her hand and leading her back to the cabin. "I want you to meet my sister."

* * *

Ellie was setting her equipment down on the sitting room's table. Chuck had just left in search of Sarah. It was easy for Ellie to recognize the symptoms of her brother falling in love and she smiled to herself. No matter what had happened, Chuck never changes. It was more than a bit comforting thought.

The door to the cabin opened but Ellie didn't turn to see who had entered. She supposed that Chuck had failed to find this Sarah woman and had returned to proceed to his exams.

"What's this for?" asked a male voice that Ellie instantly recognized.

"Well, Bryce, as you know," Ellie began. "Just a few days ago my brother was in a coma as the result of that e-mail you send him." Her tone between condescending and aggressive. "And we know that he suffered God knows what while in the care of the government. So my father and I wanted to see if the Intersect update we developed is working."

"So, Chuck still has a working Intersect?"

"Yes. As far as we know, there is no way to remove it. So Dad and I developed an improved version of the government's program, and uploaded it to Chuck."

"Then, how is it he hasn't used it since he woke up?"

Ellie finished connecting the equipment she had in her suitcase to her father's computer. She looked up at Bryce once again. "The Intersect is still there but it's blocked. We did it to allow Chuck's brain to heal. It will remain blocked unless we give him the update or if someone tries to tamper with the programing."

Bryce looked at Ellie in awe. She was very different from the sweet, overprotective girl he knew. She had a certain edge to her as if her innocence was gone. He always had crush on Ellie ever since he visited Chuck's house on the holidays their first year at Stanford and was dazzled by the beautiful, smart, and sweet Bartowski.

"What happened to you, Ellie?" Bryce couldn't restrain himself to ask.

Ellie looked at him, her usually warm eyes were blazing with anger. "What happened is that my brother was taken away from me, and I know exactly who to blame for that."

"I already told you, I'm sorry," Bryce said with sincerity.

Ellie sighed. "I know, Bryce, and I understand. But don't ask me to forgive you."

Bryce was about to say something but was interrupted when the door opened and a laughing Chuck came into the cabin with a blond in tow.

"Hi, sis," Chuck said with smile that literally lit up the room. "This is Sarah."

* * *

"Will he be okay?" Sarah asked again.

"Yes, don't worry," Ellie reassured her for the umpteenth time in mock annoyance while trying to suppress a smile. It was clear that the woman cared for her baby brother a lot more than she would admit to herself at the moment.

Chuck was lying down on the couch in the cabin's main room with an IV line in his arm. It took a lot of convincing on Ellie's part to let her administer a syringeful of low dose sedative. She silently laugh her brother's fear of needles as she attached some electrodes into his temples.

Sarah was standing a few feet away from Chuck with her arms crossed over her chest and a concerned expression on her face.

Bryce was sitting on a chair, trying to stay away from the scene before him.

"Done," Ellie announced after typing the last set of commands into the notebook. "Now we have to wait for some time until we get the results. Do you care for some tea, Sarah?"

"No, thanks," Sarah answered shyly. There was something in this woman that she finds utterly terrifying.

"I'd like some tea," Bryce interjected.

"So, Sarah," Ellie began as she approached the blond with a steaming cup in hand, completely ignoring Bryce. "What are your intentions towards my brother?"

Sarah's eyes widened in panic and surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Ellie's chuckle.

"Don't answer that," Ellie said. "I'm just glad that Chuck's got someone in this time. But tell me a little about yourself-" She was interrupted by a beeping noise coming from her laptop. She rushed to the monitor and stared at the results with Sarah following her.

"Is something wrong?" Sarah asked worriedly.

"Nothing," Ellie replied, her tone preoccupied. "But the results . . . they're are not what I had expected. The Intersect update we designed was supposed to help him with the brain degeneration. But I can't see any improvements over the last scans made by the government, which tells me that either the update works slower than we anticipated or that it's not working at all."

"What does that means?" Sarah asked, getting more concerned. "Is he going to be fine?"

"I think so," Ellie replied as she continued to type on her laptop. "We need more time and more tests but as long as he doesn't re-initialize the Intersect, he'll be fine. But if he does, his chances are not good."

Both women stood in silence, watching the sleeping man.

"But don't worry," Ellie added as she put a reassuring arm over Sarah's shoulders. "We'll just have to keep him out of trouble."

_That's what I'm afraid of,_ Sarah thought. _Trouble has a way of finding __**him**__._

* * *

They had just finished eating dinner, the best one they had in the cabin by far. Sarah couldn't stop looking with admiration at Ellie. She now knew that Chuck's sister was a brilliant woman as Ellie had hinted to the fact that she had helped her father work on the Intersect. But now Ellie had taken the same elements that they had grown accustomed to eat and somehow produce a delicious meal.

Plus, Sarah loved the way Chuck had behaved around Ellie. It was clear that the siblings loved each other. It warmed her heart to see them tease each other. Sarah felt envious for she never had that with anyone.

"Well, I'm going to take a short walk," the brunette woman announced, taking her jacket and walking to the door. "I trust that you two can take care of the dishes?" she said, winking at Sarah as she exited the cabin.

The blond blushed slightly.

Not wanting to remain in the same room with the couple, Bryce stood up and opened the door. "I'm going with her."

Chuck looked at the smiling Sarah. "I think my sister likes you."

* * *

"Ellie . . . "

"What now, Bryce?" Ellie asked, annoyed.

"Please, Ellie, let me explain myself."

"I already listened to you, Bryce. Like I said before, I understand but don't expect my forgiveness. You hurt Chuck. There is no forgiveness for that, not from me."

"Ellie-" Bryce suddenly stopped himself off as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. Something was wrong. The woods were far too calm and all his instincts were screaming at him to warn Sarah and Chuck, take Ellie, and run.

Bryce heard a quiet whisper and a soft static hiss of a communication's device.

"Back to the cabin, now," Bryce said to Ellie while retrieving his gun from the small of his back. He took her hand and ran towards the cabin's door. He heard the muzzled sound of suppressed gunfire and could feel the bullets whizzing past them.

Just when they were a few feet away from the door, Bryce felt a searing hot pain on his side, making him swerve around. He took advantage of the momentum to spin himself, dragging Ellie next to him. Making a last effort, he jumped towards the door, crashing to it with his back and violently opening it.

They fall together in the cabin's floor. Bryce heard a sickening noise when a bullet hit Ellie's thigh and she cried out in pain.

Bryce kicked the door shut while screaming at his partner, "Sarah, take Chuck and run!"

A/N: What! That lazy bastard Tynianrex updated his story? And he have the nerve to end it in a cliffhanger?

Yep. I did it. I finally updated my story. I'm no Thereisanother, but I can write a new chapter every now and then. :-) The thing is, my girlfriend kind of moved in with me (translation: she totally did) and the adjustment took all my spare time. I lived alone for quite some time, and I'd discovered that living with two dogs and living with two dogs and a woman are completely different things. For once, the dogs didn't demand a certain level of... order and neatness around the house. She does. I'm happy.

Anyway, I'm back, and this chapter is proof of that. With this, the first part of "the Pond" ends. I was getting bored with the characters just hanging in the cabin, and from now on, things are going to be quite fluid until the end of the fic.

A few important notes:

I'm helping KateMck with her story, "Inconvenient truths" . Knowing what's coming in that story, you should definitely check it out, trust me, it will be epic.

Nervert re-posted his great fic "Chuck vs the pacific northwest". It is an amazing story, I wholeheartedly recommend it. BTW Nervert, I'm sorry I didn't get to reply a review you left on this fic.

As I mentioned a few times, I'm the world biggest "Chuck vs. The Double Agent" fan. And because of that, I fully support Frea O'Scalin's "Free Bryce Larkin" campaign. Not that I like Bryce all that much, but I want a new DA chapter, dammit!.To learn more about the campaign and how you can collaborate, go to getbryceoutofthebasement (dot) blogspot (dot) com.

Also, as some of you may have noticed, I hadn't reviewed that much lately, and I'm sorry. I apologize to any writer who read this, in particular those who update almost daily, like CostasTT and LittleCandyMan. Pleas be reassured that I'm reading and enjoying your stories, even if I don't have the time to review every chapter. Speaking of LittleCandyMan, the title of this chapter came from a couple of pm's we exchanged a few weeks ago.

On the subject of reviews, on the unsigned ones:

Anon: Yep, things didn't went well for Bryce. As you noticed, he gets slapped a lot this chapter.

Annie: Of course I remember you. Not only that, I put a line I chapter 6 dedicated to you. It was when Sarah thought: "_I don't know how I ever thought that Bryce was more attractive_ ". That was a small wink to you and your previous review. I'm glad you like the story.

Last but not least, I have to thank my usual partners in crime, Read7585 for being my friend and trusty advisor and foxmac for her great work as a beta. Speaking of foxmac, she actually write the first scene of this chapter, and I think she did a great job with the flashback and the Bryce-slapping. Cheers to you, foxy!

Well, the next chapter is in beta right now, so, it will be published soon. Please, leave a review, feedback helps a lot and I'm always open to advice and suggestions.

On a final note, I don't own Chuck. I didn't owned him in 2010, and I don't own him in 2011.


	9. Sympathy for the Casey

_J. Edgar Hoover Building_

_Washington, DC_

_April 3, 2008_

_The elderly couple were sitting in a couple of uncomfortable metal chairs. The large, gray room was empty except for the large, shiny metal table in front of them. They were holding hands in silence, nervously glancing at the mirror in front of them or at the closed door. _

_The door suddenly opened and a large, imposing man dressed in a dark suit entered the room, a folder in one hand and a cardboard cup holder containing two cups of coffee on the other._

"_Mr. and Mrs. St. Denis," the man greeted them._

"_Ms. Ling," the elderly woman answered. "I've keep my maiden name."_

"_Of course," he said with a smile as he placed the cups beside them. "I'm Special Agent John Casey, FBI," he began after sitting down from across the couple. "And I wanted to talk to you about your daughter."_

_Both of the elderly couple looked at each other worriedly before the woman took her own cup and took a sip._

"_What about Hannah?" the elderly man asked. "Is she in trouble?"_

"_Please, Mr. St. Denis," Casey began. "It's in your daughter's best interest that you listen to me. We believe that she was coerced into collaborating with some criminals, probably by threatening her or either one you." He paused as he looked into the couple's eyes. At this point, the narcotics that they had been pumping in the closed ventilation system and those in the coffee must have taken effect by now, making his words easily believable._

"_We know that she left you a way to contact her," Casey added, knowing that this statement was a shot in the dark. However, the way that the elderly man's eyes widened, he knew that he had guessed right._

"_We need to contact her, although she's not in any trouble," Casey added, reassuringly. "Your daughter is the victim here. We just want to help her but we can't unless you help us." He took a deep breath as he leaned back and looked at both of them in the eyes, switching his gaze between them._

_Mr. St. Denis hesitated a moment as he looked to his wife. Despite Ms. Ling's worried expression, she gave him a slight nod in response to his unspoken question._

"_Hannah gave us a number," Mr. St. Denis began. "To use in case of emergencies." He paused as he took a deep fortifying breath and capitulated. "Tell us how we can help you."_

Sarah Walker hated protective detail with a passion. During her tenure as a field agent, the only blemish in an otherwise pristine career had been in the aforementioned assignments. She just lacked the necessary protective and self-sacrificing instincts.

However, those instincts came to the fore the moment she heard Bryce's warning. All of the sudden, her only focus was to take Chuck and run. She kicked the table to provide some cover and tackled Chuck to the ground.

Everything was happening so fast that Chuck didn't even realize what was going on. He cried out in protest but was muffled – rather pleasantly, he thought – by Sarah's chest as she used her body to shield him. With gun in her hand and Chuck secured, she tried to calm down and asses the situation. Although she couldn't see Bryce or Ellie, she could hear his heavy breathing and her silent sobs.

"What's going on, Bryce?"she hissed through her teeth.

"I don't know," Bryce answered. "I think that we can safely assume that we've been found."

_Hannah juggled with her prepaid phone and the steering wheel as she left the cabin. She wanted to check her voice mail just in case her parents left her a message. She felt a shiver down her spine when she heard her father's tired voice, "Darling, it's Dad. Look, there's been a robbery at your Momma's shop and she was shot . . . "_

Chuck was struggling to breath, pleasantly crushed against Sarah's chest. _It's not a bad way to go, _he reasoned to himself as he tried to relax in her embrace. That was until he heard his sister's muffled whimper of pain. With a sudden rush, he get out of Sarah's surprisingly strong grip and jumped over the upturned table and crawled toward his sister. She was lying in the floor, bleeding from an injury in her thigh.

Bryce turned towards Chuck and pulled him away from Ellie. "Listen to me, Chuck," he said with urgency in his voice that brooked no argument. "You need to get out of here now."

"W-what?" Chuck asked, bewildered and torn between his sister's plight and Bryce's urgent command. "Are you crazy?" he added once he'd gathered his wits about him. "I'm not going to leave my sister beh-!" He stopped as he felt a soft yet strong hand on his shoulder. He looked up and met Sarah's steady but determined gaze.

"He's right, Chuck," Sarah said as she began to pull him with her. "We need to leave now. They're coming for you!"

Chuck looked at Sarah with a frown and clenched his jaw. "I am _not_ leaving my sister behind."

Sarah wanted to scream in frustration. Her need to get Chuck to safety was overwhelming. For a moment, she considered knocking him unconscious but there was no way she could evade whoever was after them with him incapacitated. Thinking quickly on what to do next, she shifted her weight impatiently from one foot to the other and looked at the cabin's ceiling.

"Chuck, you need to leave now," a faint voice said, breaking the uneasy silence.

Sarah's gaze snapped to the floor and saw that Ellie had momentarily rallied herself as she painfully sat up, leaning against the wall. She steadily and unwaveringly looked at her brother, her face pale and her eyes shinning with tears. "Chuck, sweetie, listen to me. Dad and I-" She hissed in pain as her injured leg was jolted slightly. Recovering momentarily, she continued, "Dad and I had a contingency plan put in place just in case I was captured." She stopped to catch her breath. "Don't worry about me," she added reassuringly. "I can take care of myself." she paused. "Chuck, the government is going to do anything in its power to get you back, and we didn't go to all this trouble just for them to spoil our plans now, would we?"

"But-" Chuck began to protest, not liking what his sister was suggesting.

"No buts, Chuck. You and Sarah need to leave now!" Ellie said with all the authority she could muster.

Sarah grabbed Chuck by the hand and dragged him to the bedroom. She tucked her gun into the small of her back. "Help me," she said as she pulled a tallboy to one side revealing a tunnel. Shouldering a packed camping backpack, she handed another one to him and lead the way to the tunnel.

Chuck threw one last look to his sister, silently promising that he'd come back for her, before the tallboy swung shut.

_**How stupid could you get?**_ _Hannah mentally berated herself for the umpteenth time. She had never felt so stupid in her whole adult life. She fell right into the NSA's trap and now she found herself lying on the floor in the back of a van, gagged with her feet and hands firmly secured. She felt the van slowing to a stop and waited nervously in the dark for something to happen._

_The van door suddenly slid open and a large man in a Black Ops uniform entered with a somber expression on his face. In the dark, Hannah didn't fully recognize him until he sat down next to her. She looked up and was surprised to see Major Casey looking regretfully back at her._

_They remained silent for a few minutes before Casey's gravely voice broke the stillness. "I understand why you did it," he said, while he helped Hannah to sit up. "Hell, a few more months in that hellhole and I would've helped you myself."_

_Casey's hand reached out to sweep some stray hairs out of her face when Hannah jerked away from him in fear. He sighed and let his hand fall down to his knee._

"_You see, Hannah," Casey continued. "I don't have much. A few months ago, I learned that I had a daughter that I never knew. Her mother was the true love of my life but I left her to do my duty." He paused to remove a battered surveillance picture out of the pocket of his vest and showed it to her._

_It was picture of a pretty young woman dressed as a waitress in a diner somewhere._

"_That's her," Casey said. "I found about her existence thanks to the Human Intersect." **And now I'm about to repay the kid back by handing him over to government**, he mentally grunted. **Talk about irony.**_

_Hannah looked at Casey with a mixture of terror and wonder. She knew, as well as everyone involved in the Human Intersect Project that Major Casey didn't speak more than what is absolutely necessary. With him telling her things of a much more personal nature, she wondered if this was a good omen... or not._

_Casey grunted in acknowledgment of Hannah's continued silence despite the tape across her mouth. He put the photo back in his pocket before addressing her once more. "So, we have a problem. I have a job to do and you have the information I need to carry it out. I'll remove the tape for now. Scream if you want. However, it won't help you since nobody can hear you." He gently removed the tape from her mouth._

_Hannah moved her jaw and lips, still eying her captor suspiciously._

"_I'm going to ask you nicely," Casey began with a somber voice. "Where is Bartowski?"_

"_Major, please," Hannah begged. Chuck's awake now. He has a chance of regaining control of his life. If you have an ounce of compassion, please, let him go."_

_Casey raised a hand and Hannah closed her eyes, preparing herself for the strike. Instead, she felt a large, rough hand gently stroke her cheek. She jerked away in surprise. A few seconds later, the same hand retreated._

_Hannah opened her eyes to see the face of the stern NSA Major before her. Gone was the tenderness and kindness of the gentle touch, to be replaced by a mask of an emotionless killer._

_The Major opened a metallic briefcase and took a prepared syringe from its foam mold. "You see, Hannah," he began. "I know that as an NSA operative working in top secret projects, we have been trained to withhold sodium pentothal and other truth serums. But this . . . " He waved the syringe in front of her. " . . . Is different." He paused as he measured the recommended dosage before continuing, "It doesn't just works as a very strong truth serum, it's also very, very painful. So resistance will be hard even for a trained individual._

"_I'll only ask once: Give me Bartwski's location."_

_Hannah looked defiantly at Casey, despite feeling terrified out of her wits. "No," she said with a bravado she didn't feel. **If I resist long enough,** she thought as she tried to shore up her defenses. **Then I could buy buy Chuck and the others enough time to escape**. You have no right-"_

"_Then I'm sorry, kiddo," Casey said and with a regretful sigh, he put the syringe on her neck and injected the serum._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The underground tunnel suddenly end and Chuck's eyes easily adjusted to the pale light of the moon and the stars. From there, they covered the last hundred feet to the shed in open terrain, sprinting from cover to cover afforded by the scattered tall bushes and trees. When they finally arrived at the shed, Sarah kicked open the door. Inside was a motorcycle, covered by a dirty blanket. She threw the cover off and read the innocuous note taped to the motorcycle's speedometer.

Sarah took her backpack off and indicated for Chuck to do the same. "Secure them to the motorcycle's luggage rack," she said as she rummaged at the toolbox on the adjacent table. She grabbed a pair night-vision goggles and tossed one to Chuck.

"Do you know how to drive?" she asked him.

"Me? Really?" chuck asked with incredulity. "Do I look like a closet biker?"

"No, not really," Sarah replied with a small smile as she kicked off the stand and turned the keys to ignition. "Hop on," she said above the roar of the motorcycle's engine.

They speed from the shed, following a dirt trail. From there, they took a local road to the city.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Twenty minutes later, the van door opened and Casey stepped out. "Kid's a mess," he said to the gathered agents outside. "Took three doses to get the location." He cleared his throat before issuing an order to the agent adjacent to him. "Get her to the medical bay at headquarters and have someone administer the antidote. I have a man to hunt."_

"_Yes, sir," the agent replied before he turned away to carry out his order._

"_Beggin' the Major's pardon, sir," a young Captain interjected. "But what about her parents? What do we tell them?"_

"_Nothing for now. As far as they know, we never found her." Casey growled before turning to leave._

"_Yes, sir," the Captain replied._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back in the cabin, Bryce and Ellie were sitting in the floor, looking at the barricaded door. He took a few shots at the window trying to hinder the strike team from approaching the cabin and buying some time for Chuck and Sarah to escape. He looked at Ellie while he ejected an empty magazine and replaced it with another one. "So, this contingency plan," he prompted her.

"Yeah, there is one," Ellie replied with a grimace of pain. "But I don't think that Dad is in a position to execute it. We are on our own."

"In other words, you lied to him."

"He's my brother," Ellie simply replied and no further words said.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Casey was in his car, waiting for a report on Bartowski's location with a bottle in one hand and a polished wooden box on the other. He looked at the ceiling of his pride and joy: a 1985 Ford Crown Victoria. A few months ago, he remembered with a sour smile when Bartowski mentioned his favorite car. That fact obsessed him for weeks. He knew that his preference in vehicles wasn't in his NSA personnel file._

_The idea of Bartowski guessing something that specific gave Casey the creeps. The thought that his Pond-induced counterpart being so similar to the real thing was, well, a disturbing thought. However, he had found out that Doctor Evans had added "personal preferences and other relevant information" about the moron's handler's to help facilitate the Human Intersect's dream-state. And like with all the things on that hellhole, that was just smoke and mirrors._

_But Bartowski wasn't just the Human Intersect. He was a man, a real person, with rights. The kind of person Casey had spent his entire life trying to protect. Without his duty, he had nothing, not a single thing to prove that he once walked this land. Until he found out all about Alexandra McHugh._

_Shock and surprise didn't even come close to describing what Casey felt when he found that out. Kathleen McHugh has a daughter – **his daughter, damnit!** She was bright, beautiful and innocent. He had observed her from afar many times, always too scared to initiate contact. She was the greatest thing he had ever done, and he almost spent his entire life without knowing she even existed. Thanks to Bartowski, Casey now knew that he had done something right for once in his dark and dreary life._

_**And this how you repay him,** Casey thought bitterly as he glared angrily at bottle before throwing it to the back seat without a glance. It bounced and fell to the car's floor and the strong smell of scotch filled the air. With steady hands, he opened the wooden box._

_Resting in red velvet was a silver Kimber ICQB pistol, Casey's dress sidearm. He absentmindedly caress it. It was in perfect condition, he was sure of it as he had cleaned it himself every week as part of his "zen therapy" ever since the last of his bonsais died. He took the gun and began to load the clip._

_**Letting Bartowski go is dangerous,** Casey reasoned logically to himself. **The kid's got too many secrets stored up in that noggin of his. The chances of him falling into the wrong hands are far too great. He is the property of the US government, so letting him go is considered treasonous. So, therefore, returning Bartowski back in his Pond is right and just,** he again reasoned with his conscience._

_**It's also inhumane,** Casey's conscience countered vehemently. **We didn't sign up for this! This is not the reason why-**_

_**Shut up!**_

_Orders were orders, and at this point, Casey only saw one possible way out, only one way to disobey without betraying his country.. He was going to need a gun, and it was fitting that he was going to to fire his officer's gun for the last time. Doing his final act as a soldier and a man will only take two final shots._

_Just two. And he never missed a shot._


End file.
